#drawing dave with his hair down is always a lot of fun

[franeridart]

The Housecat Philosophy - Ep 68

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[systemfailuretpd]

Can you tell me where you get your ideas from? Your designs are really cool!

Whoa boi-

Okay so I’ve been designing characters for my entire life really, it’s one of my favourite things.

Often times I take inspiration from all over the place,

I do take inspiration from others as well, if I like your art and it looks fun, I may try and learn from it and attempt to improve my own work.

That’s how it’s been my whole life, I try to learn from everything to better my own work.

I also learned how to understand the character before really drawing them,

“How would this character dress?”

“How would they wear their hair?”

“Do they look after themselves?”

While also keeping shape language in mind along with physical indicators of personal health, after a while or a little bit depending on how much resources I have and motivation I will come up with a first pass of a character’s design.

First passes tend to be…

Questionable, as taking the inner image and plopping it on a page doesn’t always come out the way I wanted.

However it’s a start. Then I just, keep drawing the character over and over again until I get to a point that I like and that is fun to draw because that’s kinda why I draw when not doing commissions.

For Dsaf characters I already had a lot to go off of, for one I have plenty of examples for their personality while also having enough wiggle room to make my own interpretations as well.

I keep in mind what time period the drawing is taking place in and try to change how a character looks depending on how I think they had or have changed overtime.

You may have noticed Dave has his hair up in the warmups provided, but in every depiction of him that I had posted he has had his hair down or it’s much shorter in one of the requests.

I personally feel he would have no interest in his general looks and would rather just do his own thing than take after his appearance until after he becomes a bit too obsessed with old sport as now he has a genuine reason to.

That or he’s drunk.

The examples given were way before I even started talking about Dsaf on this blog, so I had many attempts to perfect how I drew them overtime.

Some examples of when I was really getting into the grove of having fun and enjoying the looks of old sport and Dave:

Please note that some could be considered spoilers for some of the things to happen in the story I’m making called “Making things right”

I just won’t say what ones are and what ones aren’t

Hope this is what you were wondering, if not just say so and I can try to answer this again in a way that you actually wanted lol

[finlands-beret]

Part three:

-Whenever he visits a new place, or even a place he's been to before, Sylv loves talking to the locals and catching the goings-on around town. -Sylv's drawn his own collection of town maps, each with lots of notes about the best spots to visit -Sylv highly prefers not to curse; the worst you'll hear from him is a "Drat!" -His nervous habit is pacing around -The best way to tell if Sylv's genuinely angry is if his fists are balled-up -The best way to tell if Sylv's genuinely sad is when he does short, soft sighs, and if he actually has tears in his eyes -During his training days, Sylv used to wear his hair long and tied back with a fancy ribbon. He had it cut short after getting in an argument with his father and losing to him in a duel over it -The earrings he's seen wearing were his mother's; his father gave them to him one birthday as a memento, and he took them with him when he ran away. As part of his coming of age ceremony, Sylv got his ears pierced while in the circus -When writing, Sylv always draws little hearts above his "i"s and "j"s. His handwriting is generally swirly with quite a few flourishes -Sylv's the only person who knows Dave's real name, as well as what he looks like under the mask. He's sworn to absolute secrecy about both facts -Sylv experiences frisson, or aesthetic chills, when listening to music. He usually gets goosebumps up and down his arms -which is one of the reasons he always wears long sleeves- but he often tears-up when he hears beautiful music, which gives the game away -Sylv doesn't remember his mother much, but he DOES remember the lullaby she used to sing to him. More or less everything he knows about her, Servantes and the maids from back then told him -When he sings, Sylv is a countertenor. He can sing high-enough notes to shatter glass, though it's obviously not a trick he does often -Thanks to his playing the dolçaina a lot, he's able to hold his notes for several seconds, too -With his naturally high charm, Sylv always has a fun and easy time winning tokens in casinos - especially at the poker tables in Puerto Valor. The only reason he hasn't been banned from there is because he's the Don's son -Since he's good at dealing out status ailments, Sylv also knows how to cure them. The only common ailment he's not good at curing is poison -As well as status ailments, Sylv is susceptible to elemental magic; darkness, wind, fire and ice in particular -Sylv usually carries plenty of medicines and curative herbs, and since he's pretty susceptible to status ailments, he's had to learn to be quick to get and make remedies -Sylv LOVES fruit; his favourites are oranges, strawberries, coconuts, apples, lemons (to a certain extent), and pineapple. He'd like to try and make space on the Stallion for growing his own fruits, vegetables and herbs -While he loves giving and receiving hugs, Sylv hates being hugged tightly. He hates not being able to breathe properly -Sylv's sneezes are LOUD; it's one thing that really embarrasses him. He wishes he had smaller, cuter sneezes -Once he starts running, Sylv has a VERY tough time in stopping or slowing himself down; this is more than likely why Decelerate was the second spell he learned in the circus - right after learning Accelerate -Sylv is VERY flexible, thanks to his time spent in the circus and the fact that he does stretches every morning. He can bend over and touch his toes with absolutely no trouble -Sylv is a multimillionaire. He had money when he ran away, though he may have had to sell some treasured possessions to keep himself going. In the present day, thanks to all of his lines of official Sylvando merchandise, he earns quite the tidy sum from royalties -He keeps about half of what he earns from merchandising for the Stallion's upkeep, and he puts the rest toward good causes -On that note, he is VERY serious about what merchandise is made, and he only accepts the highest quality products -Being a multimillionaire, Sylv is adept at counting money very quickly. It's through this that he's able to summon a thousand gold coins per every use of Gold Rush in an instant -Perhaps as a result of having it drummed into his head for so many years, if he's asked about the Knight's Pledge, Sylv is compelled to answer and recite it. No matter where he is or what he's doing -Sylv's irises turn to heart shapes when he's especially excited about something. Everything around him turns a shade of pink with this vision, too. The more excited he gets, the deeper the shades of pink become -Sylv still has some perfectionist tendencies; namely, he feels he has to be seen as perfect all the time, or that anything he does, he cannot fail at. Whenever he used to 'fail' at anything back during his knight days, he would curl-up into a ball and hide in a corner -He's better at handling things in the present day, but he'll tut and berate himself a little still if he messes something up

A new and improved Sylv headcanon list:

-Sylv can speak Valorian, Gallopolitan, Gondolian, Zwaardsrustian and Heliodorian, in order of fluency. He's also conversational in Hotton -Sylv cannot drink cow's milk; it gives him a bad stomachache -Sylv's favourite dish is Valorian seafood paella, and his favourite drink is sparkling wine. He also enjoys coffee and fruit liqueurs, rum (especially fruity flavours), and Hotton shōchū -Sylv enjoys his food on the spicy side. It helps with his fire-breathing; he tends to eat more of it before a performance -As well as dairy, Sylv doesn't care for bread all that much either, unless it's pa amb tomàquet -Sylv has numerous tattoos hidden under his costumes: the three Wyrm Whip dragons on his arms and back; a trellis with roses, daisies and tulips on his back; a rose on his right shoulder for completing his circus training; his family emblem over his heart -Sylv suffered heavily the first time he practiced fire-breathing, and while he was healed quickly at the time, it still bothers him. If he overdoes it (i.e. he uses it too many times in a short period of time), he ends-up with a bad burning sensation in his throat and chest -Out of all the circus tricks he knows, Sylv's favourite is juggling - to the point where he'll often juggle three or more of the same object if he's got them on hand, and without thinking. -Sylv can breathe fire for a maximum of five seconds

[be-with-me-so-happily]

Summary: Y/N (stylist!yn) applies to be a styling intern for the One Direction crew during the Where We Are tour. As she gets better at her job and closer to the band and crew (especially Harry Styles), some of her dreams seem to be coming true, but so are some of her fears.

~~~~~

CHAPTER 33

I'LL BE BY YOUR SIDE ANYTIME YOU'RE NEEDING ME

A/N: We're back baby! I'm back, Harry and stylist!yn are back, it's a good day! I won't lie, it took a bit to get back into the groove of this story, but I'm so happy it's going again. Hope you like it.

~~~~~

>> Warnings: 18+ ONLY: Some explicit language (always), oral (male receiving), alcohol consumption, and a tiny bit of drama, but some really lovey-dovey moments too.

~~~~~

Sept 14th, 2015

Since that night in Toronto, things have been a nonstop rollercoaster. One Direction announced their hiatus, which has left your head spinning with so many questions.

"This is crazy… this is a lot… it changes almost everything… when will the break be over?... is the band done?… I'm gonna need to find a job… Hell, I think I'm gonna need a drink."

"Sunshine, I'm getting dizzy watching you pace around like this. Please sit down, let's talk it out."

To top off the craziness, Dave proposed to your mom two weeks ago, and they have decided to have a whirlwind of an engagement by getting married… in a few days.

"Niall, please don't hate me for not going."

"Superstar, I could never hate ya!" He wraps one arm around your shoulder. "M'birthday just won't be as fun…"

"Well that's true!" You giggle, wrapping one arm around his waist and squeezing him for a side hug.

"Much rather it was you than Harry…" he pretends to whisper.

"Hey!" Harry replies, throwing his bag over his shoulder and playfully pushing Niall away from you.

"Please let me go with you." He states, jokingly glaring at Niall, who grabs his own bag and gets ready to leave.

"You should celebrate his birthday with him." You reply, wrapping your arms around his waist. "You didn't go last year."

His glare now focuses on you. "That's not fair."

You tightly squeeze your lips together, remembering that the awkward tension between you two was the reason he stayed back.

"Sorry." You give him a gentle kiss. "My point still stands though. Plus, you have meetings the next few days. I'll see you after that, at the wedding."

"Fine. I'll go all the way to Vegas, partying at the club, to celebrate Niall's birthday…" he smirks.

"Yeah, how torturous." You roll your eyes.

"I won't have anyone to cuddle." He pouts, drawing another kiss from your lips.

"Okay, ya big baby!" You bite your lip and shake your head. "Get Nialler drunk enough and you will."

"I heard that." Niall chuckles. "It's true though. C'mon, babe!" He blows a kiss to Harry as he walks out of the hotel suite.

"Alright." He growls. He pulls you closer by your waist and brings his lips to hover right in front of yours. "Not my fault if you get replaced…"

You stick your tongue out and barely brush his lips with yours.

"Yeah, but he won't do the other things we do together." You whisper.

"Fucking hell." He whispers back, pushing his lips passionately against yours.

Your hands reach up to grab his hair and his tongue begins to part your lips.

"Oi, for fucks sake you two. It's time to go, Haz!" You hear Louis state from the doorway.

"Now I really don't want to go." He pouts again.

"I'll see you at the end of the week, Rockstar." You give him one last kiss before pulling away. "Have some fun."

"With Niall? Yeah that won't be a problem."

~~~~~

You arrive in your hometown in the afternoon, with Natalie and Levi. Your mom and Dave are meeting with some close friends from out of town, so you and your friends make plans to meet up at the local bar lounge.

After having Morgan, your brother's girlfriend, help to pick out a black v-neck halter top and black ripped jeans, you doll yourself up with some makeup and text Natalie that you'll meet her there soon.

"Okay, I'm gonna use my 'brother card' here and insist that me and Morgan come as DDs." Sam states.

"What? Why?"

"Because… this is weird to say… that outfit is just…"

"It's sexy!" States Morgan.

"Yeah, that's the problem." Sam replies.

You glance over to Morgan, then give Sam an intense glare. "Don't get all 'Mister Modesty' on me now."

"I'm joking, I just wanna get out of the house."

You roll your eyes and follow them both outside to his car.

~~~~~

<< HARRY'S POV >>

Everyone is gathered in Niall's hotel suite, getting ready for the eventful evening that's sure to occur.

"I don't know 'bout you, but I'm feeling twen'y-two baby! Woo!" Niall shouts, causing most of the group to groan and shake their heads.

"Damn, I miss Y/N. She'd laugh." Niall adds.

"Those are pity laughs, mate." Louis replies, patting Niall on the back.

"Well, eit'er way, she's more fun than you lot."

Harry smiles as he puts on his rings, and straightens his deep navy and maroon silk shirt, barely listening to Louis argue how much fun he is to party with. He feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket and smiles wider when he sees your text.

:you: i miss you

:harry: miss you too

:you: kiss nialler for me

:harry: not happening

:harry: cuddles only

:you: save the kiss for me

:harry: can't wait xx

"Y/N misses you too, Niall." Harry exclaims.

"Yeah, 'course she does! I'm 'er favorite!" He lets out a big laugh. "Let's go boys!"

~~~~~

You are excited for this night out, hoping it'll give you the stress-free fun that you need right now, with everything going on.

"I'm glad this place lets us in with a wristband, it's one of the only fun places to go around here." Morgan giggles.

"You two find us a booth, maybe order some food, and we'll grab our drinks."

You and Natalie get to the bar and order your drinks, while Levi excuses himself to the bathroom.

"Was he terrified to meet your parents?" You ask, as soon as he is out of earshot.

She gently grabs your arm and laughs. "I couldn't even hold his hand, he was so sweaty!"

"Ew."

"My mom loves him, of course, and my dad wasn't too harsh. You know him though, totally a teddy bear, he's just putting on a show." She giggles.

"I can't even imagine your dad being stern, that's hilarious!" You reply.

"How do you feel about Harry meeting your family?"

"I don't know." You shrug. "I'm actually not too worried about it."

"Harry is like… don't tell him I said this… but he is perfect for meeting moms."

You grin, knowing she's right.

Levi walks back over and actually stands next to you instead of Natalie. You glance over to see a concerned expression on his face, and he leans in.

"Umm, this is awkward… but I just ran into… Ryan." He points over to the other side of the lounge, and your eyes scan the area.

You hear the familiar laugh and suddenly see him.

"You've got to be kidding me." You growl.

"What?" Natalie asks.

"Ryan's here." You state, pointing in his direction.

She frowns in confusion and then follows your gaze to see Ryan, standing across the bar, sloshing a beer around in his glass and laughing with a bunch of friends.

"What do you think he's doing here?" She asks.

You take a drink of your margarita, then indulge in another sip as you glance back over at him.

"I don't know." You gulp down the rest of the drink, already motioning to the bartender for another one. "But it's been four months. I'm sure we can keep it civil."

You shrug as the bartender hands you a fresh margarita. You down it half of it as you look back over in Ryan's direction.

"Y/N… do you want to leave?" She asks.

You take another sip and shake your head.

"No, I'm fine. We came here to have fun. So let's have fun!"

You finish your drink, and grab her hand as you lead her to the dancefloor, with Levi following timidly behind you.

"Is that Ryan?" Sam asks.

"Dude, don't." Natalie whispers.

You roll your eyes and grab Morgan's hand, twirling her around to the music.

After about three songs, you head back to the bar and order yet another margarita. You're a little winded from the dancing, and a bit buzzed from your drinks, so the sudden presence you feel next to you doesn't grab your full attention right away.

"Figured you'd be too good to come hang out at your lowly hometown bar…" the voice speaks, and you straighten up, instantly knowing it belongs to Ryan.

You turn to face him, doing your best to keep your calm and polite composure.

"Hey Ryan. How've you been?"

He scoffs. "Why the fuck do you care?"

You clear your throat and take a deep breath. Even in a crowded bar, you can sense the abundance of alcohol in his system. The smell on his breath and the slur of his speech is quite telling.

"I'm just trying to be nice."

"Whatever. Go back to your fucking famous boy toy." He replies, attempting to wave you off.

"He's not ev-... nevermind. Have a good one." You grab your drink, then turn away and roll your eyes.

[So much for being civil]

You sip on the new drink as you dance with the group. You watch as Sam fawns over Morgan, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her cheek. It warms your heart to see him so happy.

You turn around and reach into your pocket with your free hand to pull out your phone.

:you: i miss you

:harry: miss you too

:you: kiss nialler for me

:harry: not happening

:harry: cuddles only

:you: save the kiss for me

:harry: can't wait xx

You smile, putting your phone back in your pocket, and turn back around only to be met with two drinks down your shirt. Yours, and someone else's.

"What the-" You look up to see Ryan standing there, inches away from you.

"Oops!" He states.

"Ryan, what the fuck?" Natalie exclaims, scooting to stand next to you.

"Yo, dude, what was that for?" Levi asks.

"It was an accident…" Ryan rudely smirks.

"Just be chill." Levi replies.

"Nat's got you whipped, huh?" Ryan moves to wrap his arm around Levi's shoulder. "Gotta take her side all the time?"

"Ryan, chill." Levi scolds.

"Oh, speaking of being whipped… Y/N, looks like your famous fuck buddy is finding a new fling to fuck."

"What the hell are you talking about?" You snap.

He pulls out his phone and opens up Twitter, smirking as he pulls up a photo and turns his phone around. You see Niall and Harry at the club, with a girl sitting in between them. She has her head thrown back and one hand placed on each of their arms as she laughs. Niall is joining in a laugh, and Harry has a smile on his face, with his elbows resting on his knees as he looks at his phone.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and Natalie scoots next to you to take a look.

"Oh my god." She rolls her eyes. "That's Lou."

"Stop being such a dick, Ryan, and walk away." You state.

"I wouldn't be such a dick, if you weren't such a bitch!" Ryan shouts.

"Okay, no, don't talk to my sister like that!" Sam defends.

"Your sister is a slut, Sam!" He points at you, with his finger a few inches from your face.

"That's enough!" Sam shouts back.

Ryan's hands come up and shove Sam backwards into Morgan. Instantly, one of the staff members walks up and grabs Ryan by the arm, leading him away

"Fuck you guys!" Ryan shouts back to your group, before being forced out of the entrance.

"Oh. My. God." Natalie exclaims.

"I can't believe I was friends with that piece of shit." Levi wraps his arm around your shoulder.

"Me either." Natalie adds. "Are you alright, honey?"

You nod. "Yeah. Just want another drink… or two…"

"Y/N, maybe we should go…" Sam states.

"No! I'm not ending the night like that."

~~~~~

<< HARRY'S POV >>

Harry's glad he came to Vegas with Niall. He likes having a break from the chaos of their schedule and all the controversy that's being created around the band's hiatus announcement. And he is glad that you're having your own fun. He knows you deserve it, too.

He does miss you though.

Harry pulls his phone out of his back pocket as it vibrates, and sees your name on the screen. He subtly smiles and motions to Niall that he is taking the call from you.

He walks into the hallway that leads to the bathrooms, and swipes to answer.

"Well, hello-"

"Harry!"

"How are you, love?"

"You're gonna get mad… pretty mad… hey, but you're pretty already!"

"Wha-..."

"That stupid asshole!"

"What happened?"

"Ryan was here… (Sam, stop, I'm fine)... He was such a dick!"

"What? What did he do?"

"I miss you… (For sucks fake! No wait, for fucks sake, Sam)... I just want to cuddle with you, H."

"Y/N, what did Ryan do?"

"It's stupid. He spilled his drink on me, and I don't know… other stuff. He pushed Sam… Sam, who isn't letting me walk home!"

"Baby, are you alright?"

"I'm drunk." He hears you giggle.

"I'm gonna come tomorrow."

"The margaritas were so goo-... Wait, what?"

"I'm gonna come tomorrow."

"No! I mean… yeah that was right, the right word. No!… enjoy Niall's birthday, I'm fine."

"Please go home with Sam."

"Harry…"

"Please. I love you, Sunshine."

"Okay. I love you too."

Harry hangs up, clenching his jaw as he stares at his phone. He walks back to the booth where the rest of the group are sitting.

"So, lover boy, did you need to send Y/N some goodnight kisses?" Louis jokes.

"That fucker Ryan was there." He grits his teeth as the words come out of his mouth.

Louis' eyes get wide. "Oh shit."

"She said he was being a dickhead to her and now she's completely wasted." Harry grabs his empty glass and his knuckles turn white.

"What're ya gonna do?" Niall asks.

"I'm sorry, mate. M'gonna pack and leave tomorrow. I've gotta be with her." Harry replies, running his hand through his hair.

"Yeah, 'course! Take a swing at 'im for me!" Niall throws a punch in the air.

"M'not gonna hit him."

[Although it would feel really good]

"Damn." Louis chuckles.

~~~~~

Sept 15th, 2015

You wake up in your childhood bed with a massive headache.

[Yeah, this time, not worth it]

You groan as you attempt to sit up, swinging your feet off the bed, and feeling someone on the floor.

"Good god…" Natalie growls.

"What happened last night?"

"Margaritas." She grabs her head and sits up. "Lots… of margaritas."

You squint as you finally open your eyes. You pick up your phone from the bed to check for any calls and texts you may have sent.

"I called Harry." You chuckle. "That had to be interesting."

"At least you didn't call an ex." She states.

"Oh god…" Your memory starts to come back. "Ryan."

"Oh shit, yeah… Ryan…" she scowls.

"Maybe that's why I called Harry." You pull in your upper lip as you press the call button. "Should probably check that out."

It only rings once before he answers.

"Hey Sunshine!" He exclaims.

"How are you always so chipper in the morning?"

"Coffee."

You groan and he chuckles.

"Crazy night, yeah?"

"You could say that… I called you, I guess?"

"Mhmm." He responds, and you can tell he is smirking.

"Oh god. I'm sorry." You bring your palm to your forehead.

"S'alright, love. It just let me know you'd need some breakfast burritos today."

"Right, so are you sending some from Vegas?" You giggle.

"Umm… yeah, something like that."

"No you didn't."

"I did. And they should be there any moment."

Suddenly you hear the doorbell ring.

"Rockstar and a psychic. We'll have to capitalize on that!"

You hear him quietly chuckle as you make your way to the front door.

"Enjoy your food, Sunshine."

"Thank you, H."

You swing the door open after hanging up, and almost drop your phone.

"Hey! What-... What are you doing here?"

"Delivering breakfast burritos." Harry grins, holding up a restaurant bag full of food.

"Wha-… umm… thank you!" You lean in for a quick kiss. "I don't understand though… you're here early…"

You move aside to let him in, biting your lower lip as you walk with him to the kitchen.

[So… Harry Styles is in your childhood home]

He takes a quick scan around as he puts the bag on the counter, giving you a chance to take in the sight of him. He's just wearing a polka dot button up and jeans, but he looks delicious.

"This is exactly what I thought this home would look like." He states, looking back at you with a smile.

You walk over and wrap your arms around his waist. "I'm happy you're here."

"Me too." He gives you a lingering kiss. "I hated hearing you so upset."

You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath. "Oh god. Is that why you came early?"

"I don't want that wanker upsetting you ever again." He states, gritting his teeth as the words leave his lips.

"I don't plan on seeing him again." You shrug. "And what about Niall's party?"

"Niall understands. He told me… punch Ryan for him." He chuckles.

"Harry…" you clear your throat. "What about your meetings?"

"Easily rescheduled, love."

"Oh god." You pinch the bridge of your nose. "You didn't need to do that."

"Are you upset that I'm here?" He asks, placing his hands on your hips.

"No!" You wrap your arms around his neck. "I'm just upset that I made you feel like you had to be, and that you changed your plans for me."

"What?" He pulls his head back to look you in the eyes. "I want to be. Everything else can wait."

You pull him in for a kiss, moving your hands up his neck slightly to entangle your fingers in his hair.

"You come first." He whispers.

"I…" you stutter.

"I love you."

"I love you." You state, pulling away so that your lips are just barely touching.

"And I'll love you too if some of that food is for me." You hear from the kitchen entrance.

"Hey Nat." He reaches in the bag and hands her the tin foil wrapped breakfast.

"I knew I liked you." She chuckles.

"You just said you'd love me!" Harry exclaimed.

"It's getting there." She chuckles, taking a bite of the burrito.

"Yeah, okay…" he rolls his eyes. He grabs another out of the bag and hands it to you.

"I'm actually gonna take a shower first." You grab his face and give him three pecks on his lips. "Are you gonna be okay here with each other?"

"Yeah, I'll be alright." He replies with a chuckle.

"Oh, I was talking to Nat." You stick your tongue out between your teeth and head to the bathroom.

You take a quick shower, rinsing off the vibes from the night before.

You head back to the kitchen where you hear lots of chatting and laughing.

"... she wore them everywhere… it got quite annoying, but at least I knew where she was!"

"Oh my god." You utter as you turn the corner. Your eye catches Harry first, then Natalie, and then your mom. She's holding out a photo album and has it displayed in front of Harry.

"Hello Twinkle-Toes!" He grins, causing you to hit your palm against your face.

"Mom! Why?" You exclaim.

"No, this is good!" Harry states. "Now I know to get you tap shoes for Christmas!"

You glare as you walk over to stand next to him, closing the album, and feeling his hand immediately wrap around your waist.

"Christmas?" Your mom quietly asks.

"Yeah! Maybe we can coordinate to get a matching tutu!" He chuckles, opening the album back up and pointing to another one of your childhood photos.

Your mom subtly looks over and smiles your way.

"Well then." She clears her throat. "I'm glad you're here Harry. It's so nice to finally meet you, but I have to run some errands."

"I'd love to help, if that's okay?" Harry states.

Your mom's eyes widen as she shoots them over to you quickly before looking back at him. "Oh! Yes! That would be a big help. Thank you, Harry."

"F'course! You're the bride after all. Shouldn't be running around town."

You look up at him and a flood of adoration flows through you.

[Yup, perfect man to meet your mom]

You look back at your mom, who you can tell is holding off some tears as she looks over to you.

She clears her throat again and grabs the photo album. "Well, I'll put this away for now and I'll… just… take a nice long bath."

As she walks out of the room, Harry looks down at you with a big smile.

"Think I made a good impression?" He asks nervously.

"Are you kidding?" You rest both hands on his shoulders and stare into his gorgeous green eyes. "She might keep you here!"

"Ooh, then I could see more photos running around in your undies." He exclaims, causing you to smack his arm.

"You see that already." You smirk.

You hear footsteps around the corner, and your brother suddenly appears.

"I was told there are burrit-... oh!"

He stops in his tracks as he sees the two of you.

"Hello. I'm Harry." He reaches his hand out to shake Sam's.

"Umm, hi. I'm Sam, Y/N's brother." He replies, his eyes between your face and Harry's.

"F'course, she talks 'bout you loads." Harry hands him a burrito from the bag. "Here ya go, mate."

Sam unwraps the food and takes a big bite, humming as he nods.

"Alright, man. You're approved." He states, his mouth still full, and giving Harry a thumbs up.

"Oh, 'ppreciate it." He chuckles, then looks down to you. "So, what can I help with?"

~~~~~

You run a few errands together, but mostly take Harry to different places around your town that have some significance for you. You take him to the local bakery where you fell in love with your mini tarts, and now sit on a bench in front of your favorite view.

"Okay, Edith is the best. I can't believe she's had the bakery for forty years." He takes a bite of his tart and lets out a pleased moan. "Never mind, I can fully believe it."

"She loved you! I was worried for a moment." You chuckle.

He swallows his bite. "I could go back there…"

"She has fake teeth, Harry." You reply.

"So this place…" he changes the subject as he looks out to the field of sunflowers in front of you.

"It's one of my favorite places in the world." You admit, looking down at the pastry in your hands.

"Why's that?" He asks, looking genuinely intrigued with that powerful stare when he gives someone his attention.

"They're beautiful." You clear your throat. "But, umm, they also represent a lot of good things."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Like… happiness. And… optimism, and peace. I… I came here all the time after my father left."

Harry scoots even closer to you, grabbing one of your hands with one of his.

"Just looking at them made me feel… safe." You add. "That's why they're my favorite flower."

Harry squeezes your hand and gives you a tender kiss on the temple.

"Sunshine…"

"Yeah?"

"What did Ryan do last night?" He asks, rubbing his thumb over your hand.

"What? Why-"

"Last night, you said he did 'other stuff'. Please, I just wanna know."

"Umm…" you clear your throat. "From what I remember… he called me a bitch…"

You feel his hand clench tighter onto yours.

"He… umm… called me a slut, and…" Now you see his jaw clench and a knot starts to form. "Harry…"

"There's more?"

"He tried accusing you of cheating."

"What?" His chest starts rising and falling quickly, causing you to take deep breaths with him as your rub his hand with your thumb.

"He showed me a photo someone posted of you at the club." You see his eyes widen. "It was of you, Niall, and 'a girl' he thought you were flirting with."

"Y/N, I didnt-"

You squeeze his hand tighter now. "I know, H. Besides, it was Lou in the photo."

"Were you worried? Tell me honestly."

"Not even for a second." You smile, which causes him to grin. "H, I feel safe with you. And I trust you."

"I should've been ther-"

"Harry. Stop. Please don't do that. Not again." You take a deep breath to remove the small amount of anxiety that starts to creep its way in. "I'm fine, and I had people there to help. Natalie would've throw down if she had to."

You both chuckle.

"M'sorry, Sunshine. You're right. As long as you're alright, then m'alright too."

You look right into his eyes and can't stop the butterflies fluttering about. You're in your favorite place, with your favorite person, and everything just feels so right.

He rests the remaining piece of his tart on his lap and presses his hand on your cheek, gently placing his lips on yours. You match his movements and exhale heavily as his tongue slides inside your mouth.

He finally pulls away to catch his breath and rests his forehead against yours.

"I think this is now one of my favorite places in the world too."

~~~~~

Sept 18th, 2015

Things have been so sweet and simple with Harry around this week. You've had family hangouts every night, and Dave has become this biggest One Direction fan. You've watched movies as a family, and you've enjoyed laying on Harry's chest, both trying to steal handfuls of popcorn from each other's hands like you used to. Anything you do with him is wonderful, but being like this together has just grown your love for him.

The wedding tonight is going to be simple- in the backyard, chairs and tables for just a few close friends and family, with lights strung up- so there isn't much to do this morning.

You quietly wander out to the living room where Harry is asleep on the couch. You so desperately wanted to share your bed, but that twin mattress was just not allowing the two of you to do so.

You bite your lip, kneeling down next to him, as he lays on his back with one arm under his head. You gently place a kiss on his lips and notice a small smile start to appear.

"Mmm. G'morning Sunshine." He moans, sleepily.

"Everyone is asleep, wanna come to my room?"

With his eyes still closed, a small pouts appears on his face. "I don't fit on the bed, remember?"

"I wasn't suggesting we sleep…" you whisper, and his eyes immediately snap open.

You hold out your hand to get him off the couch, but he pulls you on top of him, causing you to giggle. He grabs the back of your head and passionately presses your lips together. He moans as you bite his lower lip and he bucks his hips up towards you.

"Come on." You whisper.

He lets you pull him up and lead him to your bedroom. He gently closes the door and makes his way over to sit on your bed.

You stand in between his legs as he runs his hands up and down your back, looking up and smirking.

You kneel down and tug on his shorts, causing him to lift up enough for you to slide them, and his briefs, down his legs.

He gasps as his cock springs up and you lick up his base.

"Fuck, Sunshine. M'so hard already."

You perk up and lean forward, kissing him lustfully as your hand grabs his base and you gently stroke him up and down.

"Oh my god." He breathes out. "I need to feel you babe, please."

You give him one last kiss and kneel back down, licking the tip of his cock. You open your mouth and slowly take him in.

"Mmm. I've missed you, like this."

You hum against him and he quietly moans out again. You take him deeper and he grabs your hair. You stroke your hand in rhythm with your mouth and use your other hand to cup his balls.

"Oh fuck." He grunts. "Fuck it feels good."

You remove the hand on his cock and take him all the way to the back of your throat. His legs shake from the sensation and he lets out a low moan.

"Shit, m'not gonna last… last much longer." He hisses as you take him deeper once again. You hum against him and cup his balls again.

"M'gonna… m'gonna cum… oh god Y/N… s-safe?"

"Mhmm." You agree, nodding slightly, and he grips your hair tighter.

"Fuck… m'gonna… oh, babe, fuck." He moans. You feel his muscles tense up and his cock start to throb as he releases all the way to the back of your throat. You massage your balls as he works through his orgasm, making sure you swallow everything he expells.

"Shit, m'sorry I didn't last longer." He states, placing his finger under your chin to look up at him, as he tries to catch his breath. "S'been too long since we've done things, and it felt so good."

You shake your head. "Don't need to be sorry, H. I just wanted you to feel good. Did you?"

His mouth drops open slightly and he frowns. "F'course I did, Sunshine. Now I want to return the favor…"

You suddenly hear the bathroom door shut and the shower turn on.

"Oh for fucks sake." He mutters, causing you to giggle.

"Rain check? Not that anyone cares, just… don't need my family hearing me scream your name." You wink, giving him a kiss on the lips as he nods and stands to bring his briefs and shorts up.

"Fucking hell, Y/N, don't say that shit. Can't go out there with m'dick standing at attention."

You both chuckle and you pull him in for another intense kiss, before grabbing his hand and leading him out of the bedroom.

You make it to the kitchen to look for some breakfast, not finding many choices. As you close the fridge, you turn around to see Harry standing behind you and smirking.

"What?" You giggle, feeling a little blush rush to your cheeks.

"It's just nice doing normal things with you." He smirks again, grabbing your hips and pulling you into him. He slides one hand up from the back of your neck, into your hair, and presses his lips against yours.

He suddenly smacks your ass and you pull away, giggling. "Speaking of normal… there's basically nothing here for breakfast. I'm thinking we should go back to Edith's to grab some coffees and pastries for everyone?"

His eyes grow wider. "Yes! Maybe I can finally get her number!"

You let out a big laugh. "And then maybe I can get free baked goodies!"

~~~~~

<< HARRY'S POV >>

The ceremony was short and sweet. He loved watching you standing up at the front, in your short and flowy pink dress, smiling as you listened to the vows. It sort of reminded him of his mum's wedding to Robin.

The reception isn't over-the-top either. They have kept it intimate, with a short list of guests, and a small buffet to indulge in. It all seems perfect for them.

Harry sits down next to you to eat, and places his hand on your thigh. He sees you look over at him and wink.

"I love you." You whisper to him.

"I love you too." He replies, feeling the flutter in his heart.

[He loves those words leaving your bright, beautiful lips. Those words that only he gets to hear, at least being spoken with that meaning]

He can't remember if he's always been so sappy, or if the wedding is bringing it out in him, but he knows he's never felt this way about anyone else.

Once the plates are cleared, the local DJ they've hired announces that it is time to dance. He feels your hand grab his as you try to pull him up.

He chuckles. "I feel like you should know me better than that…"

"Boo, you snooze." You poke your tongue out at him. "You at least owe me a slow dance!"

"Deal." He chuckles, as you walk away.

He watches you laugh with your mom, and embarass Sam when you dance with his girlfriend.

He loves seeing you happy, and free, and fully yourself.

[He can't believe he almost missed all of this]

He shakes the thought out of his head before it takes over him too much.

He pulls out his phone and rests his elbows on his knees, unlocking the screen and finding the camera. He presses the button to start recording, wanting you to have these memories forever, and so he can keep them too. Something he can go back to whenever he misses you. Just like the one he recorded the night of the rooftop party.

He notices Dave headed his way, and he stops the video, returning his phone to his pocket.

Dave takes a sit next to him and gives him a quick pat on the back.

"Having a good time, Harry?"

"Yes. Thank you for letting me be a part of it." He replies.

"Well, you're a big part of Y/N's life, and she's a big part of Maureen's, which means she's a big part of mine too."

Harry nods.

"You know, Harry, I had known a lot about Y/N before I finally met her, which was only about seven months ago…" he looks over at you and his new wife, displaying a big smile across his face. "But Maureen says she's never seen Y/N so happy. And I can see it too. So, thank you."

Dave smiles at Harry then rests his hand on Harry's shoulder. They both look over to you and your mom, twirling around on the dancefloor.

"I can't imagine my life without this little family of theirs." Dave states softly.

Harry looks down again, clearing his throat as he starts feeling a blush form on his face. "Yeah, me… me either."

[And he never wants to again]

"We're two very lucky men, Harry."

"Yes. Yes we are, Dave."

"Hey." Dave whispers. "I was going to pick a song to play for them, want to help me?"

Harry smirks. "I'm in."

~~~~~

As you twirl around the dancefloor with your mom, you glance over to where Harry and Dave were just sitting, but frown when you don't see either.

"This next song is a slow one folks, so grab someone you love and make your way to the dancefloor." The DJ announces.

You feel a tap on your shoulder, and twist around to see Harry grinning as he offers his hand to you.

"May I have this dance?"

"I thought you don't like to dance." You reply.

"I owe you one, remember? I like dancing only if it's with you…"

"I think that was the cheesiest thing I've heard come out of your mouth!" You giggle.

"Wanna dance or not?" He asks, following up by sticking his tongue out at you.

You bite your lower lip and nod, resting one hand in his and the other on his shoulder, scooting in close to his body. His scent and his warmth are always so comforting, and he looks good in his white button up shirt with the blue leafy print. You are grateful you allowed yourself to feel things again, because this is the best you've ever felt.

[Cherished. Like how your mom feels with Dave]

As the first chords of the song play and lyrics come through the speakers, your eyes widen and they stare into his.

I've figured it out

I've figured out from black and white

Seconds and hours

Maybe we had to take some time

"Oh my god, tell me you did not request to play this…" you chuckle.

"Actually, I didn't. Dave did. He's a big 1D fan, y'know."

You and I

We don't wanna be like them

We can make it til the end

Nothing can come between

You and I

You turn around to see your new step-dad swaying with your mom, as he sings the lyrics to her. He looks over and nods towards the both of you.

I figured it out

Saw the mistakes of up and down

Meet in the middle

There's always room for common ground

You look back to Harry and let out a happy exhale. You move your hands to wrap around his neck, and rest your head on his shoulder, feeling his cheek rest on the back of your head. He throws his hair up into a bun and proceeds to wrap his arms snuggly around your waist, as if he never wants to let go.

He quietly sings the second chorus to you, and tears start to appear in the corners of your eyes. You tighten you hold on him and sing along.

[This is one of the most rom-com moments you've ever had, but you don't want to be anywhere else]

We can make it if we try

You and I

You and I

Oh you and I

You lift your head and bring his head forward to plant a passionate kiss on his lips

"I love you, Sunshine. Always."

"I love you too, Rockstar. Never a question."

~~~~~

Series Masterlist || Chapter 32 || Chapter 34

Taglist: @watermelonsugacry @tw1nflamebruis3 @slut4lilyrose @pinktakeaway @hopefulwastelandcreation @tenaciousperfectionunknown @his-only-angel-1989 @queenmadi2 @runway-to-my-aid @theekyliepage @be-yourss @harryistheonlyoneforme @b-reads-things @behindmygreyeyes @michellekstyles @a-strange-familiar @yousunshineyoutempter @buckybarnessimpp @little-freak-satellite @msolbesg @sleutherclaw @katiebaxterrrrrr @percysaidnever @thatbitch2828 @mrspeacem1nusone @thurhomish @sushiabby @woanderry @harrystylesrecs

[foli-vora]

stay with me

A/N: LMAO where did this even come from? No idea. Dave decided to back the fuck up for a small while and let me finish a Whiskey WIP. I’m still new with the whole smut thing so please forgive me if it’s not decent! Let me know what you think! ☺️❤️

❗️It’s been bought to my attention that the creator of the GIF I’ve used isn’t correct—it was made by, and all credit goes to, @interstellarflare! Thank you for the heads up @rebelforthebadtimes ❗️

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x f!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: STRICTLY 18+, minors please exit the vehicle! Swearing, mentions/descriptions of oral sex and p in v sex, hand job, cum eating (if there’s anything else, please let me know!)

+

The hammock sways softly in the cool spring breeze, the sun shining through the canopy of apple trees towering above you, holding you steadily suspended from the ground. The clucks of distant hens echo in your ears, tangling with the occasional buzz of an insect flying past, but all overwhelmed by the steady thump of a strong heartbeat in your ear as your head rests on a sturdy chest.

“You awake, darlin’?” The husky baritone vibrates beneath your cheek, your heart fluttering as it melts into your ear.

You hum lowly, tiredly. “Barely.”

“I really need to get goin’ now.”

“Five more minutes.”

Jack chuckles deep in his chest, your head jolting slightly as he does so. His hand is warm, fingertips calloused, as he rubs along your brow bone with a gentle rhythm, almost lulling your body to sleep. You make no effort to move from your position half on top of him, keeping your leg hitched comfortably around his thighs.

“Now sugar, you said five more minutes a good twenty minutes ago.” He tries to sound stern, like you’re causing him a great inconvenience, but he doesn’t move; doesn’t pat your leg as a sign to let him up. He stays perfectly comfortable, enjoying the sunshine and warmth of your body pressing into him.

“Mmm,” you nuzzle into his chest, fingers drawing random patterns into the soft fabric covering it. “Don’t go.”

He groans softly, arm briefly tightening around your body. “Darlin’, don’t do this to me.”

“Stay with me,” you purr quietly. He watches through fond eyes as your own flutter open and gaze up at him, his heart skipping a few beats as the rays of spring sun paint your skin. “Please?”

You watch the struggle play across his face, knowing he would love nothing more than to stay here at home with you rather than go on this mission. You knew it was wrong to feel like this—he had told you about his job early in the relationship and how he’d be away a lot... it was fine and you supported him, but today you were just feeling needy. He eventually shakes his head with a tired sigh.

“You know I can’t.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Not even if I... I don’t know... gave you an incentive to stay?”

“Darlin—”

His breath hitches as your finger traces lower, weaving between the buttons of his shirt before dancing along the waistband of his pants. You loved him in his work suits, all clean and fancy. Usually he would change and leave, but this particular day he let you lure him into your embrace, grumbling about creases but still climbing into the hammock nonetheless.

“We could move to the bedroom—you could spread me out on the bed... or bend me over in front of the mirror like the other day... you liked that, didn’t you Jack? You liked making me watch myself while you fucked me.”

His frame, previously relaxed, is rigid beneath you, muscles coiled and winding tighter with each word you breathe so prettily into his ear. He remembered... your eyes locked onto your face, a beautiful mess of tears and sweat, mouth open and singing his praises as he drilled into you from behind, a firm hand weaving into your hair to keep your head up when it started dropping.

“Or do you want your cock in my mouth? You know how much I love it, Jack. You’re so big, baby. I always make such a mess...”

He sees you on your knees, pretty eyes blinking up at him while you gag around his length, saliva smearing along your cheek when he pulls back and smooths his swollen tip along your jaw. He watches you watch him, wide watery eyes locked onto his hand jerking his cock in open admiration. You hear the catch in his breath, the tell tale sign of his impending release, and open your mouth, watching his face crumble in ecstasy as thick ropes of cum paint your tongue and cheek.

“Prettiest fuckin’ thing I ever seen.”

“Yeah? You like it when I’m messy? Like it when you cum all over my face?”

Shit. He was throbbing and you hadn’t even touched him yet. His hips twitch, the movement causing his pants to rub along his cock and he fights to keep his resolve. What was he meant to be doing again? Right, leaving...

“Fuck sweetheart, I really have to go—”

He doesn’t look at his watch. He doesn’t need to. He knows he’s already a good hour late. Champ is going to string him up alive—

His nostrils flare as your fingers move to his belt, releasing the clasp and unzipping his fly slowly. Your lashes flutter as you blink innocently up at him, tongue momentarily peaking from between your lips to moisten them. He watches the movement hungrily, eyes darkening as your teeth bite down onto your bottom one.

“Or we could stay right here. We’re so comfortable, after all.” You breathe, fingers lightly running the velvety skin you could feel between the open zipper. “You love my hand, don’t you, Jack?”

His teeth mash together as you delicately free him for the confines of his pants, fingers wrapping around him and giving an experimental jerk. He curses quietly, eyes squeezing shut as your thumb rubs at the drops of precum gathered on the swollen head and you watch it smear, glistening in the rays of soft sunlight. Jack’s incoherently mumbling as your hand starts to pump slowly, and it brings a small smile to your face.

“If you want me to stop, just say so and I will.”

His head is violently shaking from side to side before he can even think it through. He needs to leave—this is his job, people are depending on him but oh... oh fuck... how could he go anywhere with your hand doing that? Just five more minutes... five more... Christ—

“Don’t you love me, Jack?”

His brows pinch together, hips bucking into your hand as you move too slow for his liking. “Of—fuck—o-of course I do, baby—”

“But you’re leaving me...” Your grip tightens and his mouth pops open.

“Sweet Jesus—I’ll never... fuck baby—I’ll never leave you.”

Your thumb rubs over the tip again and he jolts, the hammock swinging under the sudden action. “No?”

“N-never—I wan’... I wanna give you e-everything.”

“Everything?”

He nods, groaning when you finally speed up. You reach up to kiss along his throat, nipping sharply at the skin before soothing it with a hot swipe of your tongue. He curses again, head turning and seeking your lips out. You indulge him, mouth opening when his tongue hungrily swipes along your lip and then he’s in your mouth, tongue raking along your teeth and then sliding passionately along yours.

You speak against his lips, “You gonna stay with me, Jack? Or should I stop? You’re so late, I should just let you go—” You halt your movements and pull away.

Lightning fast, his hand is covering yours and wrapping it back around his cock, leading your pumps as he growls lowly, “Don’t you fuckin’ dare—”

“You staying with me?”

He nods, face slack and mouth hanging open as you work him closer and closer to the edge, stomach tightening.

“Promise?”

“Holy sh—I—fuck—I promise, sugar—”

“Good.”

And then he’s cumming, groaning loudly into your hair, hips spasming wildly as he spills hotly over your hand and onto his pants. He sucks in a breath, twitching in your grip as you slow your movements and milk him for everything he has. He feels you shift and peaks an eye open to watch you bring your hand to your mouth, groaning deeply when your tongue peaks out and collects the cum from your skin.

“You’re gonna be the god damn end of me, woman.”

-

“I really appreciate you helpin’ me out.”

He shoots you a half hearted glare from where he stands in the corner of the room, phone to ear, and you laugh quietly, legs kicking in the air as they dangle off the bed. Your eyes rake over his frame, taking in his creased shirt and cum stained pants, still undone and giving you a little peak of the neat patch of curls.

Tequila hums down the line, voice deep with mirth, “That little lady sure has got your head in a spin.”

“What are you talkin’ about, kid? I got a migraine.”

Tequila chuckles, “Yeah, okay. Have fun, gramps.”

Jack finishes the call and throws his phone onto the dresser before striding to the edge of the bed. He frowns down at you, but it does nothing to stop the heat curdling deliciously in your belly, the slick between your legs growing under his intense gaze. You bite your lip, grinning up at him innocently.

“You’ve gotten what you wanted, pretty girl, now it’s my turn. Spread those legs—show me that pretty little pussy that’s keepin’ me from earnin’ an honest livin’.”

+

Tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed

[delaber]

Three-Point Perspective (Part 2)

Rafael Casal x Reader x Daveed Diggs

Note: Guys! When I wrote Three-Point Perspective, I wasn’t planning on adding a second part to it but the amount of support was so overwhelming that I just had to do a sequel ...And let me tell you; I am so glad you guys wanted it because this was so much fun! I have never been more challenged with a story-line, portraying emotions, changing perspectives, and just the plot in general. I have never never never changed a story-line as much as I did for this one, haha! Crazy amounts of shout-outs and thanks to my amazing mate @einfachniemand​ for listening to countless of ideas, for feedback on several snippets, for being supportive af, and for telling me “yeah, no, that doesn’t work. Back to the drawing board.” Thank you boo! You are amazing! A huge thanks to @theatrenerd86​ for starting off this sequel by providing the settings - and for just being the most supportive human being ever! Mwah! Also a huge thanks to the rest of you for your endless support! I love this community! (Oh, and anon; thanks for the (quite old, sorry) prompt but I didn’t do it for Rafa (sorry once again)). Let me know what you guys think!

Words: 13.8K

Warnings: Oh my goodness, I don’t even wanna get started... Blood, heartbreak, angst (my three tropes)

Rafael

Rafa almost tripped over his own two feet as he stumbled over to the bar and desperately ordered a large whiskey shooter. He was having a hard time keeping calm; his heart was beating fast in his chest, his throat closing in on itself, his hairline soaked in panic-sweat. He needed to put what had just happened in the very seat he was standing in front of at a distance. His hands were still itching to punch something! He needed the fucking drink!

The bartender had barely stopped pouring Maker's Mark into a small glass before Rafa quickly grabbed it and chugged its contents down his throat, desperately trying to block out what he had just witnessed.

Your tongue in his best friend's ear.

Diggs' hand sliding up your thigh.

The sensual smile you'd worn as Diggs had whispered promising words in your ear.

"Oh god," Rafa groaned as he recalled your excited smile as his best friend had escorted you out of the bar, his hand dipping uncomfortably low on your hips.

Desperately clutching the now empty whiskey glass, Rafa tried relentlessly to push away the image of what you and Diggs probably were in the midst of doing right now. Oh shit, oh no... His chest was stinging, his stomach aching horribly at the thought of you and Diggs fucking. Oh god. He tried to shift his focus to the burning sensation down his esophagus instead and quickly ordered another shooter.

It didn't take long before the bartender had placed another glass of golden-brown liquid in front of him that he quickly downed in one go, thinking about how stupid he was for not having acted on his feelings for you earlier. He had had eight fucking years to do so after all?! Why the fuck hadn't he just pulled himself together and called you up?! He wanted to punch something! He wanted to get fucked up! He wanted to call someone and get them to deliver a big fucking bag of blow - but he settled on a third shooter.

He gulped down the whiskey as the aggression subsided and was replaced by the same type of jealousy-induced heartburn that he had felt earlier that night. Fucking Daveed Diggs and the way he always seemed to be able to wrap women around his little finger! In eight minutes, he had managed to do to you what Rafa hadn't managed to do for eight years. Fuck him!

A fourth whiskey went down Rafa's throat as the jealousy was replaced by hurtful pangs in his chest; shit it hurt to think about you and Diggs together. Rafa knew that you had had a few men in your life since the summer in the taco truck, and even though it had stung to see pictures of your romances on Instagram, it didn't hurt half as much as seeing his best friend escort you out of the bar.

He ordered another whiskey. And another one after that. And then an entire bottle of Jameson just to recall the taste of your lips that night on top of the skate ramps all those years ago. Quickly, Rafa gulped down most of the bottle, his eyes watering from the sharp taste of alcohol on his tongue, but no matter how much he drank, he still wasn't able to get image of you and Diggs out of his head. It had etched itself on the back of his eyelids, somehow becoming clearer and clearer with every gulp of fiery liquid.

It didn't take long before he had reached the half-way mark on the bottle of Jameson, completely lost in constantly checking his phone to see if you had tried to contact him to tell him that Diggs by some miracle had blown his shot. You hadn't. And even though Rafa doubted that you would, he still couldn't put the phone away.

He was fumbling about on the screen as he accidentally found Diggs' name on the list of contacts. Completely lost in contemplating whether or not he should call him up and tell him to stay the fuck away from you, he jumped a little when he suddenly felt a soft hand on his shoulder. For about a mili-second, Rafa believed that the soft touch belonged to you, but as soon as he had whipped around in his seat, he felt the disappointment cloud his mind as he was met by his make-up artist Janelle instead. "Oh, hey," he spoke in an uninterested tone of voice, his words a little slurred from the amount of whiskey he'd been drinking.

"Rafa, honey, are you okay?" She looked at him with kind eyes, "you seem a little out of it."

"I'm great," he slurred into his whiskey glass before emptying it for what felt like the 100th time that night, "I'm fucking perfect! This night's just absolutely fucking perfect."

Janelle furrowed her brows and pushed the bottle of Jameson out of Rafa's reach, "is it because of Daveed and -"

"- DON'T say her name," Rafa warned, his voice turning to a low drunk growl afterwards, "I don't want to think about it."

Janelle sat down on the empty barstool next to him and sent him a slow nod, "yeah, I was afraid this might happen..." she sighed and sent him a pitiful look.

"That what might happen?" Rafa drunkenly mumbled, trying to avoid her gaze.

"Honey... I've seen the way you look at her," Janelle whispered and reassuringly put her hand on Rafa's arm as she searched his face for any kind of affirmation. Rafa groaned and met her eyes shortly before she softly added, "- and I've seen the way Daveed looks at her too."

Rafa gulped to keep the slowly forming lump in this throat at bay, "...so you don't think it's just a one-night thing?" He croaked in a small whisper, the pain in his chest suddenly twice as hurtful as before.

Janelle shook her head slowly, shooting Rafa a careful look.

"And - uhm," Rafa cleared his throat "- do you think that - uh - she's into him as well?" He added in a whisper, his face involuntarily screwed up as he was afraid to hear the answer.

"I don't know, honey," Janelle said diplomatically and pulled him in for a tight hug, inaudibly giving away that she definitely thought so. Rafa appreciated Janelle's attempt to salvage the situation and let her comfort him for a couple of seconds before she slowly let go of him again, sending him a heartfelt look in the process. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.

"No..." Rafa mumbled and reached for the bottle that Janelle had pushed away moments before.

She grabbed his arm and forced it down in his lap instead, "why don't you leave the bottle and instead call it a night, boo? You've been drinking quite a lot already."

Rafa gulped a little and realised that she was right. Nothing good would come from sitting at the bar, drowning his sorrows in cheap whiskey. "Yeah," he groaned as he ran a hand through his damp hair, "yeah... You're right. Might be a good idea..."

"Go grab your jacket. I'll call you a cab, okay?"

"Thanks," Rafa mumbled before scrambling to his feet, swaying a little from side to side. He managed to balance himself and stagger over to the coat check where he retrieved his leather jacket and slowly pulled it on with great difficulty.

"I got you," Janelle was suddenly behind him, helping him pull the jacket up his arms.

"Thanks," Rafa mumbled as he pulled on the collar to rearrange the leather over his shoulders.

"You wanna say bye to the rest of the crew?" Janelle piped from behind him.

He shot a quick glance across the room and towards the table that his friends were occupying. "I better set an example," he mumbled even though he'd rather be sitting in a cab on his way home right now.

With his arm around Janelle, and her hand on his chest to steady him, Rafa walked over to his co-stars, putting up his best attempt at a cheerful smile, "I'm off guys. Have a lovely evening," he slurred drunkenly.

He thought to himself that he was doing a tremendous job of hiding away his hurt feelings until he noticed their stiff smiles. Suddenly, he realised by the sympathetic looks they were all shooting him from their seats, that they were well-aware of what was going on. Rafa quickly scanned their silent, pained faces one by one until Alessandro - one of the leads - finally spoke up, "see you Monday boss!"

Annoyed with their pitiful eyes, Rafa mumbled a, "see you Monday, bruh," and turned around, facing Janelle again as the others awkwardly looked away. It made him feel stupid.

"Cab's outside," Janelle tried to smile and pulled him in for a hug, "are you going to be okay, boo?"

"I don't know," Rafa croaked truthfully against her neck and let her pull him just a little closer.

"Call me tomorrow, okay?" She let go of him, "We'll do something fun."

"Okay," Rafa slurred, his eyes stinging as he turned away from her and towards the exit.

Slowly, he stumbled out of the bar and hopped into the yellow cab outside, closing his eyes desperately in the backseat, trying to block out any thought of you and Diggs but failing horribly. The ride home was the longest drive of Rafa's life, his thoughts sporadic and unorganised but all centred around the same thing: what would he come home to? Had you and Diggs gone to your place? Or to Diggs' place that he just happened to share with Rafa? Fuck, he almost couldn't bear the thought of coming home to meet Diggs balls deep in you on the couch. Rafa would never purposely punch Diggs, but if he came home to face that, he wasn't sure he'd be able to hold back his itching fist.

"He's your best friend," Rafa mumbled to himself as a reminder, hoping to calm himself down, "he's your best friend. He didn't know. He's innocent... - well apart from fucking your girl..."

Everything inside him was on fire.

"You alright back there, mate?" The cab driver shot Rafa a look in the rear-view mirror, apparently concerned about the whispered words, he'd heard coming from the backseat.

"Yeah," Rafa replied unenthusiastically, a little annoyed that everybody seemed to be so concerned with him - but he eventually stopped thinking out loud.

For the remainder of the trip, the driver kept his mouth shut too but annoyingly enough constantly checked in on Rafa in the rear-view mirror.

Rafa was relieved when the driver finally pulled over outside his home and paid him quickly, slamming the car door shut with much force, hoping to alleviate some of the all-consuming itch that he felt deep in his bones. Little did it help. He still wanted to punch something.

Rafa turned his attention towards the house and gave out a short sigh before he started swaying up the paved pathway in the small yard, briefly stopping before he reached the front door. He prayed that you had taken Diggs to your place and not the other way around. He couldn't handle being faced with his worst nightmare - and especially not after having had so much to drink. Right now, he couldn't account for how he'd react.

He stood with his key in hand for a while, scared of what might come, but eventually realised that he would have to go inside at some point. With a deep sigh, he slowly slid his key in the lock and turned it around, his palms sweating terribly. He felt his heart sinking down to the bottom of his stomach when the key didn't meet any kind of resistance, and he realised that the door was already unlocked.

Fuck... Diggs had taken you here.

With a burning sensation in his chest, Rafa quietly pushed open the front door and stepped inside the small hallway, closing the door behind him with a small thump. He closed his eyes and threw his head up against the wooden door, forcing himself to relax by taking three deep breaths - a technique he had learned from his mother when he had been nervous about doing spoken words for the first time at fifteen.

He focused on his breathing for a few seconds and after having exhaled a third time - already more relaxed than before - he opened his eyes and took in the room. He immediately saw that the floor of the narrow hallway was decorated with several pieces of discarded garments strewn randomly about on the stone floor.

Diggs' pants. Your dress. Your bra.

"No..." Rafa groaned quietly as he took in the pieces of clothes with a hard gulp, the tears stinging in his eyes when he realised what he was being confronted with. "No, no, no!" he buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath to get himself under control again. His entire chest was on fire, the taste of stomach acid thick on his tongue. Everything around him went quiet as he heaved in a big gulp of air, wishing that he had stayed sober tonight. This was all getting too much; he couldn't control it. He was too drunk.

He took another big gulp of air, and was just about to slowly exhale when a soft sound hit his ear canal... It was coming from the other room.

A moan.

A sweet, heartfelt, sensual moan.

From a woman - from you...

It was the result of a sincere reaction to something that had brought you immense pleasure. A moan that someone else had brought to your lips. A moan that Rafa's best friend had brought to your lips.

Fuck! The itch in his hands that he had felt for quite some time now suddenly became too much and he punched the wall hard, causing an old, framed picture of him and Diggs to fall down, the frame shattering in several pieces on the cold stone floor. He stared at the broken shards of glass for a few seconds, torturing himself by carefully listening for more of your sweet moans echoing throughout the house.

They didn't come, however. The entire house was suddenly completely silent. Thank god.

Slowly, Rafa squatted down to brush the glass-dust off your dress, the silky fabric soft between his fingertips as he pulled the dress to his chest, thinking about what it would feel like to be the one to pull it off you.

Without warning, however, the silence in the hallway was broken by another loud moan coming from Diggs' personal space and Rafa was quickly brought out of his trance. He had to get out of there! He would go to a hotel or something! Anything to get away from the sounds you were making for another man!

Slightly panicked, Rafa shuffled to get to his feet, but overbalanced and fell forwards, his left hand immediately softening the blow as a reflex. From the moment his palm hit the floor, Rafa felt a sharp pain in his hand, but didn't realise that he had cut himself before he rotated his elbow and saw the huge piece of broken glass that was prodding out of his palm. "You're kidding me," he groaned as he tried to focus on the glass shard before he grabbed it tightly and forcefully pulled it out of his skin, the warm blood immediately running down his hand as a terribly sharp pain started pulling at his fingers. "OH FUCK!" he exclaimed a little louder than he had intended to, unable to hold back in his inebriated state.

Pressing in on the wound to try and get it to stop bleeding, he hurried to the bathroom and quickly located an old towel that he wrapped tightly around his bloody hand. "Shit! Oh fuck that hurts!" He groaned loudly and slid down the wall, his ass hitting the cold floor with a small thump. He could hear hushed voices coming from Diggs' personal space next door, and he realised that he had no idea what hurt the most; the thought of you lying in there wearing nothing but your panties, or his throbbing hand that had already bled through the old towel.

"Shit," he mumbled to himself as he replaced the old piece of cloth with a clean one, "ah fuck it hurts!" He hissed and tried to push the wound shut to get it to stop bleeding. It helped for a few seconds before the gash opened back up, fresh blood spilling out again. Just looking at it made him dizzy, and he realised that he couldn't handle this on his own. He was too drunk. He needed help. Embarrassed by himself and the situation he had put himself in, he took a deep breath before calling out the name of the last person on earth he wanted to see right now, "DIGGS!"

The hushed voices from the other side of the wall died down completely. They'd heard him. Still, there was no response to his cry for help. Meanwhile, the second towel around his hand was soaked through as well. What if he was about to bleed out? What if he was spending his last moments, pathetically heartbroken on his own bathroom floor?

"DIGGS!" he tried again, this time a little more panic to his voice.

The entire house was quiet still, and Rafa listened intently for few seconds before he finally heard an angry voice calling from the other side of the wall. "WHAT?"

"Diggs, I need your help!" Rafa called back, embarrassment flooding his voice.

"I'm kind of busy in here, Rafa!" Diggs bellowed back. Rafa had never heard him sound so annoyed before.

"Come on, man... I'm serious," Rafa let out a loud groan as he took in the bloody rag that was wrapped around his hand.

He heard cursing and shuffling on the other side of the wall and a few seconds later, the door to the bathroom finally swung open, revealing a very annoyed Daveed Diggs who was trying to hide away his boxer-clad erection with the palm of his hand.

Upon seeing how Diggs was already hard and ready to fuck Rafa's girl, there was no doubt: The pain in Rafa's chest definitely exceeded the pain in his hand.

Daveed

Daveed could not believe how lucky he was! He had barely closed the front door behind him before you had pulled him in for a string of sensual kisses in the dark. His lips were moving fiercely against your warm skin, your head lolling backwards as you panted and let him press you up against the wall in the hallway. He loved the sensation of your fingers tangled in his long hair as he attacked your neck and jawline with rough, affectionate kisses. You let out a small impatient pant as he untied the bow at the side of your dress, giving himself easier access to your beautiful build underneath as the dress opened up completely.

"Fuck, you look absolutely amazing," he cupped your ass and pressed his pelvis closer to you with a groan.

Your small fingers desperately undid the buttons of his shirt and Daveed quickly shrugged it off, finally standing in front of you in nothing but his dark blue slacks. His lips quickly resumed their positions on your neck where he immediately started sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin while running his hands all over your torso.

Your fingers desperately found the button of his slacks and Daveed felt the tight sensation of his pants against his crotch disappearing slightly as you brought down the zipper and slid the slacks over his hips. Your small hand was palming him through the cotton of his boxers, and he couldn't stop the groan that fought its way all the way from his stomach and up his throat. He heard you chuckling incredulously above him as you let your dress fall to the ground before you dropped down to your knees in front of him, determinedly pulling his boxers down over his thighs.

Daveed's mind went completely blank when he felt your hand cup his balls while your wet mouth found the tip of his straining erection. Your warm breath against him had him let out an involuntary groan, and when your plump lips kissed his engorged head, the sensation sent a shiver all the way up his spine. He pulled your hair away from your face and held it in a loose ponytail on the back of your head, your eyes interlocking with his in the process. Even though you had him between your teeth, the submissive look you sent him had him feeling incredibly in control! Without giving up eye contact, you kissed his head twice before placing a long, wet lick at the tip of his erection, immediately sending hard vibrations throughout his entire body. "Fuck," he groaned and caressed the side of your face when you wrapped your lips tightly around his head, sucking a bit at the tip.

"Mmmh, pull my hair!" you panted around him and he immediately tugged on the ponytail, buckling his hips closer to your face, desperate to feel the ecstasy of warm, wet, tightness around him again. To Daveed's relief you immediately obliged and slid your lips almost all the way down to his base and back up again, releasing him with a small pop.

"Oh fuck!" He let out a groan as he looked down into your huge, submissive eyes, slowly stroking your cheek. You repeated your motions, your tongue wet and soft against him as you bopped your mouth along his length, his hips meeting you half-way, "yeah, that's it, baby, just like that," he panted softly as you kept gazing up at him, upping the tempo and bringing him all the way down your throat with a slight gag, reminding him of how big he was.

Daveed had received many blowjobs over the years but never in his life had he felt more worshipped and desired! You were massaging his balls lovingly as you brought his length down your throat, hollowing your cheeks and making him feel completely taken care of as you focused solely on his pleasure and enjoyment.

He was just about to let go and cum down your tight throat before he reminded himself that he'd have to take it easy if he wanted to last long enough to fuck you. And holy shit, how he wanted to fuck you! He knew he was very good with his hips and hands and he wanted to bring you pleasures that you'd never even dared dreaming of before.

It was hard to do, but eventually he managed to pull himself out of your wet mouth and you to your feet with a gruff, "come here!". He unclasped your bra and tossed it aside before he pushed you up against the wall, took your nipple in his mouth, and ran his fingers along your lace-covered folds. You let out a soft gasp and he repeated the motions of his fingers while attacking your neck and throat with toothy kisses. You were panting and moaning underneath him, your hand still stroking his erection lovingly.

"Okay, okay, okay, you gotta stop," he licked the shell of your ear with a low chuckle, "I still have so many things I want to do to you," he smacked your ass and you let out a small whimper when his palm came in to contact with your skin.

Slowly, you let go of him and carefully caressed his abs instead as he re-claimed your lips. The kiss was deep and soft, and it made the straining sensation in Daveed's erection even more unbearable, but he was patient enough to not touch himself.

After a few minutes of intense, passionate kissing, you pulled your face away from his and looked up at him with a dark look in your eyes, "well, are you going to do something about it? Or are you going to just leave it at talking?" You chuckled against his skin.

"Don't get cocky with me," Daveed smiled and hoisted you up in his arms. You let out a small yelp, but still threw your legs around his waist and let him carry you to his bedroom while licking his ear. He carefully positioned you with your back against the mattress of his bed and hovered above you as he put his lips to your collarbone, slowly kissing his way down between your breasts, over your stomach, and stopping when he reached the top of your panties. He sat himself down on his knees in front of you, sending you a hungry look as he ran his fingers over your body. You looked him square in the eye and raked a hand through his curls, pulling his head back slightly. The anticipating look you were sending him made his erection twitch between his legs, but he still didn't touch it. Instead, he licked his lips and kissed the laces between your legs. "I love this colour on you," he growled against the thin fabric. He could feel you shiver underneath him as he pulled the red laces down your well-shaped legs, caressing your inner thighs lovingly. "Mmh," he hummed as you spread your legs for him, your fingers still tangled in his hair. Your chest was heaving up and down in a slow, steady rhythm as he placed small kisses on your skin, his tongue just barely grazing you. He enjoyed the way you closed your eyes and dipped your head low as he repeated this motion a few times.

Slowly, he slipped his tongue inside your folds, your lips gently spreading for him as he tasted you. You gasped slightly when he reached your clit and gave it a small flick before he slowly ran his tongue over you again. You were panting above him, your fingers caressing his scalp as your face was screwed up in pleasure. Daveed couldn't look away even if he wanted to!

He caressed the back of your legs with his hands before he had his fingers join his tongue at your core. Slowly, he inserted a finger into your wet heat and was rewarded with a deep moan escaping your lips. Desperate to hear you again, he inserted yet another finger, letting his digits and tongue work in unison until you finally let out another deep moan.

He could tell you were close to letting go completely, and it was all working out so nicely, your chest heaving up and down faster and faster as you moaned loudly for him, your nails finding their way to his scalp, pulling his face closer to you - when clash!

Out of nowhere, a loud shatter was heard from somewhere in the house. It sounded like glass breaking, but Daveed was used to Rafa's clumsy ass, so he ignored what he assumed was his best friend returning home after his night out.

Daveed did, however, feel you freeze slightly underneath him, and you pulled back the moan that had been just about to escape your lips and replaced it with a, "what was that?!" a slight panic to your voice.

"Relax, it's probably just Rafa," Daveed whispered and resumed his movements.

"What's he doing here?" You panted slightly but not as sensually as before.

"He lives here," Daveed growled against your skin, annoyed by the fact that your attention was suddenly directed at his best friend instead of the very pleasurable things he knew he was doing. To make sure that you forgot about Rafa, Daveed brought out the big guns and put his lips around your clit, vibrating them while his fingers worked their way in and out of you. It worked expertly, and it didn't take him long before he'd earned himself another loud moan coming from you. You looked as if you were completely lost in the sensations, he was causing you - but not for long, because suddenly a loud "OH FUCK!" from Rafa rang throughout the house. It was followed by hurried footsteps as Rafa ran to the bathroom that was located next to Daveed's personal space.

Daveed felt you shuffle underneath him as you put your weight on your elbows and closed your legs slightly, craning your neck as you looked towards the wall that Daveed's personal space shared with the bathroom. You had a concerned look in your eyes that Daveed chose to ignore. Instead, he kept going with his fingers and tongue, but you weren't moaning anymore.

"Shit! Oh fuck that hurts!" Rafa exclaimed loudly from the other side of the wall.

"Don't you think you should go check on him?" You asked quietly, your eyes still glued to the wall.

"No," Daveed said curtly, and tried to get you to lie back down again so he could continue. You didn't budge, however. You were more interested in the loud groan that was escaping Rafa. You let out a nervous laugh as you once again heard him cuss and groan from the next room.

"Ignore him," Daveed panted as he spread your legs apart again, his tongue immediately finding your core, and he was rewarded with a gasp from you. He had just started moving his fingers inside you again when he heard Rafa call his name loudly from the other side of the wall.

"DIGGS!"

Daveed froze for about a mili-second before deciding to ignore Rafa and continue moving his fingers inside you instead.

"Go talk to him," you chuckled and raked a hand through his hair, suddenly totally unaffected by his movements,

"He can wait. I'm far too busy," Daveed let his tongue run over you again, once more losing himself in your wonderful wetness.

Rafa however, pulled him back to reality by yelling out his name a second time, "DIGGS!!" causing you to slightly close your legs one more time.

"You're kidding me..." Daveed muttered under his breath as his face was forced away from your wet centre. "WHAT?" he ended up bellowing back to his best friend on the other side of the wall.

"Diggs, I need your help!" Rafa kept calling.

"I'm kind of busy in here, Rafa!" Daveed bellowed while looking into your amused eyes.

You were chuckling slightly, "he needs you. Don't you think you better...?" You sent Daveed a charming grin while nodding towards the door, "he sounds quite drunk..."

Daveed shot you a pained look.

"Go," you chuckled, "I'll still be ready for you in here when you come back. Don't worry."

"Come on man... I'm serious," Rafa bellowed through the wall.

"I'm going to murder him for this!" Daveed groaned in an annoyed tone of voice and got up on his feet with a loud groan. He quickly located a pair of boxers and packed away his erection before storming out of the room, closing the door to his personal space shut behind him.

He found Rafa sitting up against the wall in the bathroom, his eyes swimming with alcohol. "What, bruh?!" Daveed demanded as he locked eyes with him, "what's so important that it couldn't wait until morning?"

"...Were you sleeping?" Rafa slurred while looking like a total fucking idiot as his drunk eyes scanned Daveed from head to toe.

"Of course I wasn't sleeping! I was in the middle of eating pussy when you ruined it!"

Rafa looked as if he was about to throw up, "...you're about to fuck her?" He slurred.

"Yes?! So make whatever you want to say quick, 'cause I got a soaking wet woman waiting for me on my bed!"

Rafa looked up at Daveed with a pained expression but kept his silence.

"I swear to god, if you don't speak up now and tell me what the hell made you call me out here, I'll kick your ass!"

Rafa sighed heavily, looking as if he was about to tell Daveed someone else's secret but eventually croaked, "I hurt myself," while holding up his left hand that was wrapped sloppily in a blood-soaked towel.

First then, did Daveed notice that there were several splodges of blood on the bathroom floor. It made him drop the attitude slightly, "Jesus fuck Rafa, what the hell did you do?" He groaned and crouched down next to him on the floor.

"I knocked down the frame in the hallway," Rafa slurred and let Daveed examine the deep cut in the palm of his hand, "cut myself on the glass."

"You did a thorough job," Daveed mumbled with a sigh as he lifted the towel to check out the gash that was still bleeding heavily, "come here, run some water on it. I'll find some bandages." Daveed turned on the faucet and helped Rafa find his balance as he quickly pulled him to his feet. He could tell that Rafa was struggling to stand still as he swayed back and forth while leaning in over the sink, playing a bit with the jet of water. Daveed sent him an annoyed glance; he did not have time for this! "How much did you have to drink after I left?" he asked, the irritation practically oozing out of him as he looked for the first-aid kit in one of the cabinets.

"I dunno," Rafa mumbled sleepily as he watched the water clean the blood away from his hand, "a lot?"

"Yeah, so I'd guessed," Daveed mumbled to himself as he located the first aid kit and quickly pulled out a couple of rolls of gauze. "Come over here," he urged Rafa to sit down on the edge of the tub next to him.

Rafa gave out a small grunt and turned off the water, before turning towards Daveed with lazy movements. Daveed had to bite his tongue to avoid telling Rafa to hurry the fuck up!

Rafa's ass had barely touched the white ceramic of the tub's edge before he lost his balance and vigorously swayed back and forth a few times, finally catching himself by throwing his hand up against the sink, leaving bloody handprints all over the bathroom in the process.

"Jesus Christ, Rafa!" Daveed groaned, he did not want to deal with Rafa's drunk ass right now, "look, I'll help you with your hand but I'm not cleaning up out here!" He said harshly.

"Then don't!" Rafa muttered as he slowly slid down to the floor with a loud groan, sending Daveed and irritated look in the process.

"Come on; give me your hand," Daveed demanded, determined to be done as fast as possible so he could get back to you.

Rafa held out his arm and Daveed rotated it to look for more injuries and noticed that Rafa had bruised his knuckles quite badly too, "...have you been in a fight?" He furrowed his brows.

"Just fix my hand, okay?!" Rafa shot Daveed an annoyed look, "Make it stop bleeding!" He slurred and gestured to the blood that was already dripping from his fingertips again.

Daveed gave out an irritated grunt as he started wrapping Rafa's bloody hand in gauze, "sit still!!"

"Oh fuck," Rafa groaned as Daveed slowly draped the gauze over the sensitive wound, "fuck it hurts."

"Quit your whining!"

There was a knock on the bathroom door and Daveed slowly looked up from Rafa's bloody hand and towards the door instead. You were poking in your head, looking curiously at what the two men were doing, your hair a big mess. "Is everything alright in here?" You asked carefully as you stepped inside, tugging on the oversized shirt you'd put on to cover up your naked body.

"Rafa cut himself - and apparently he's too drunk to handle it alone," Daveed rolled his eyes so Rafa couldn't see. He registered your amused smile just before he turned back to the hand in his lap, immediately noticing the small change in Rafa's flexibility as opposed to before you had stepped in. His fingers had somehow gone weirdly stiff, and by further inspection, Daveed realised that Rafa's entire body was suddenly tense, the muscles in his jaw continuously flexing and relaxing, flexing and relaxing. Still, Rafa didn't bat an eyelid, he didn't even emit a single sound. He was just silently staring at you, his eyes going up and down your front, his breathing hard and heavy. Daveed shot him a weird look out the corner of his eye. What the fuck was going on with him? He had definitely had too much to drink...

"'s that my shirt?" Rafa slurred to you as he took in your attire.

Daveed briefly looked up at you and realised that the oversized t-shirt you were wearing were indeed Rafa's favourite Raiders shirt that Daveed had borrowed the other day. Rafa had a weird look on his face, and it looked as if he was about the say something crude to you, so to diffuse the situation, Daveed spoke: "let it go, bruh," he said in an uninterested tone of voice before he quietly turned back to wrapping the bleeding hand. Why the fuck would Rafa care if you were wearing his t-shirt or not?? He didn't mind Daveed wearing it.

"Oh..." he heard you say softly from the doorframe, "Raiders... I'm sorry. I didn't realise."

"Yeah, no. Don't be," Rafa said softly and Daveed was just about to give his best friend a mental pad on the back for having enough sense to bring his attitude around so quickly, but then he added an "- it looks good on you!" in a flirty voice that vexed Daveed so much that he felt a slow anger bubble in his chest. He let go of the bleeding hand and straightened his back as he looked over at Rafa with a hard look. He could not believe that Rafa had the nerve - the audacity! - to act so disrespectfully! What the fuck had gotten into him?! He had been a huge cock-block to you and Daveed and now he found it suitable to be flirting with you???

Daveed had to take a deep breath to calm himself down, in the meantime reminding himself that Rafa was drunk as fuck and probably not even aware that his words could be misinterpreted as more than just friendly... Therefore, he purposely ignored his best friend's impudent behaviour and instead made sure to keep his eyes down low so he could concentrate fully on wrapping up the bleeding hand, determined get the fuck out of there as fast as possible so he could get back to slipping you his famous techniques.

The wound in the palm of Rafa's hand was still bleeding quite heavily, and it didn't take Daveed long to realise that he needed more gauze to make the blood stop dripping onto the floor. "Shit," he muttered under his breath and looked over at you, "baby, can you get me more gauze out of the cabinet?"

You whipped your gaze away from Rafa's face, your eyes immediately finding Daveed's. The look in your eyes instantly shifted from something that Daveed couldn't quite place to soft and cute, a small goofy smile slowly erupting on your lips as you scanned his face. You didn't say anything, just sent him a curt nod before you quietly turned to the cabinet, looking for the first-aid kit on the bottom shelf. As you bent over in front of him, your t-shirt rode up high and Daveed got a beautiful glimpse of the red laces under the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing. Your panties were hugging your ass nicely, and for a moment, he forgot about the bleeding limb in his hand - all he could think about was touching you again! He wanted to snap the useless piece of fabric between your legs in two and delve his tongue into your wet heat, bringing you untold pleasu- ...he suddenly felt Rafa's fingers do a small involuntary twitch in his lap and he realised that his best friend was checking you out too, his mouth hanging slightly open, his eyes glued to your ass.

What the fuck was the matter with him? Had the roles been reversed, Daveed would never have checked out Rafa's girl!

Angry with his best friend, Daveed gave Rafa's arm a small smack while sending him a threatening look, daring him to keep staring at your ass. When his and Rafa's eyes interlocked, Rafa's face curled up in a sour expression but he quickly fixated his gaze on the floor in front of him instead, probably realising that Daveed could knock him out easily.

Meanwhile, completely innocent and oblivious to what had just happened behind your back, you stood up straight and handed Daveed two extra rolls of gauze before resuming your position in the doorway.

Apparently, Rafa had learnt absolutely nothing from Daveed's silent threats and immediately went back to staring at you again. Daveed contemplated shooting Rafa a verbal threat as well but decided against it when he realised how absolutely pathetic his best friend looked. He was drunk as fuck, his eyes all foggy and glossy. Daveed would confront him about his disrespectful behaviour tomorrow.

Still, the fact that Rafa was staring intensely at you while you were only wearing the slightly oversized t-shirt and your beautiful, beautiful panties underneath, made Daveed uncomfortable as fuck, so he worked double speed on Rafa's hand to get you away from the bathroom faster.  Luckily, with the fresh supply of gauze from you, it only took him a few more minutes before he was done with the wrapping, a sigh of relief travelling through his body as he finally let go of Rafa's injured hand.

The tension in the bathroom could be cut with a knife and Daveed took a deep breath to calm himself down before breaking the silence by saying, "Look, I can bandage this to keep it from bleeding all over, but you need to go to the hospital for stitches or something."

"Mmh," Rafa grunted beside him, clearly not pleased with the situation. His eyes were glued to you, and he was wearing a certain hungry look on his face as he drank you in - and Daveed realised that Rafa definitely was aware of what signals he was sending.

What the hell was going on inside his pea-sized, idiot brain? Did he want Daveed to punch him? Daveed was just about to grab him by the collar when he heard you piping from the doorframe, "...I can take you."

...what? Daveed immediately turned his attention to you and saw the soft look you were sending Rafa as you continued, "I can drive. I almost didn't drink tonight."

What?! You liked Rafas stares?!

"You'd - you'd do that?" he heard Rafa whisper from beside him, a soft smile erupting on his best friend's lips.

Daveed didn't like it. He thought to himself that it looked as if the two of you had developed a secret language in the time it had taken him to wrap Rafa's hand. What the hell had he missed out on?

"Of course," you nodded slowly, your eyes still interlocking with Rafa's, "Let me just grab some pants, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Rafa whispered, a hopeful look on his face, "thanks."

What the fuck was going on between you two?

Daveed watched you send Rafa a small smile, your face flushed. The sexual tension was thick between the two of you, and Daveed felt the jealousy burn in his chest as neither of you were looking away from the other. How the fuck dare Rafa flirt with the girl that he had brought home?! How dare he send you those hungry looks?! It was itching in Daveed's hands to do something about the long, continuous gaze between you and in his frustration, he curled his fingers and accidentally pressed on Rafa's wound, making him hiss in pain as he shot back an angry look. Daveed was far too busy looking over at you, however. You finally had your attention directed at him - and not Rafa - your eyes huge and doe-like, looking as if you'd just woken up from a trance. He shot you a look as if to say 'what the fuck is going on?' and you gulped guiltily.

Suddenly realising that he finally had the full attention of both you and Rafa, Daveed spoke up in a voice that was much more strained than he had intended, "Nope! Not gonna happen! Uh-uh, absolutely no fucking way," he shot his best friend a hard look, "Rafa you can take a cab!" he turned his attention back to you, "Baby go back to bed, I'll be there in a second!"

He noticed your eyes skating between his own face and Rafa's and he sternly let out a "he'll take the cab, okay!" He didn't like the way you were looking at each other, and he still very much intended on fucking you tonight no matter how big of a cock-block Rafa was being!

He was trying to catch your eye, but you had your gaze firmly placed on Rafa again, seemingly unable to look away. Daveed noticed how you let out a small gulp as Rafa shot you a careful nod as if giving you permission to leave.

What the hell was going on????

He also noticed the long glance the two of you shared before you gently closed the door behind you as you exited the bathroom.

What! The! Fuck!

Daveed felt his chest bubbling over. He had never felt this way towards Rafa before, but his best friend had never looked more punchable! Automatically, his fingers once more pressed in hard on Rafa's wound.

"Ah! Dude what the fuck!" Rafa yelped loudly.

"What the fuck was that all about?" Daveed spat, "you're flirting with my girl!"

"She's not your girl just because you brought her home for one night, Diggs!" Rafa hissed angrily through gritted teeth.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Daveed felt as if his eyes were bulging out of his skull, "She's crazy about me! You should've seen the way she was begging for it at the bar!"

"Yeah, I saw everything," Rafa said slowly with anger in his eyes, a low growl to his voice as he drunkenly staggered to his feet, "I saw exactly how you swooped in and thought you could erase eight years of history between me and her!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Daveed hissed before his voice turned to frustrated yelling, "Rafa, you have no history with her!" he too stood up, so they were eye to eye, "you made out with her once eight years ago and now no one else is allowed to touch her?! If you wanted a shot with her, you should have done something ages ago!"

"I did do something ages ago! I kissed her!"

"Yeah! And then you had eight years of nothing! You didn't even talk to her! How the fuck was I supposed to know that you wanted to kiss her again???"

"You could have asked me!" Rafa yelled frustratedly.

"I could have asked you?! Come on, man!! You're thirty-three years old for fucks sake! If you wanted something to happen with her, you should've engaged yourself!"

"I was planning on doing so tonight!" Rafa hissed angrily, "and she would've said yes if it hadn't been for you!"

"No she wouldn't!" Daveed was minutes away from pulling out his own hair. How could Rafa be so thick?! "Don't you think that something would've happened by now if you both wanted it so badly?"

"Did you not see how she was eye-fucking me just now?" Rafa yelled angrily, sending Daveed a hard look.

Daveed let out a low growl, "yeah, meanwhile I was minutes away from actually fucking her! If she really wanted you, don't you think she would've given you more signals than a few pitiful looks because you're drunk and hurt? She doesn't want you, man!!"

"Fuck you!!!" Rafa spat angrily and shoved Daveed in the chest causing him to stagger backwards as he was pushed out of balance.

"What the fuck's the matter with you!" Daveed spat as he took a step closer to Rafa, balling up his fists and sending him a threatening look, "you really want me to beat you up?"

"Do whatever the fuck you want with me as long as you stay away from her!" Rafa yelled and gave Daveed another hard shove in the chest. His eyes were bloodshot and Daveed had never seen him this angry before.

"What the fuck's gone into you?" He yelled louder than before, "she clearly doesn't want you! Why can't you just let her go?!"

"Because I'm in love with her!" Rafa yelled loudly, spit flying everywhere. His eyes were huge and aggressive.

Daveed took a step backwards and stared at his panting best friend as his angry words sank in. Rafa's nostrils were flared, and it looked as if he was about to punch Daveed in the face.

...Rafa was in love with you? Daveed could punch himself! Why hadn't he seen it before? Of course Rafa was in love with you... He took a deep breath to calm himself down before he quietly spoke: "Yes - well I'm crazy about her too..."

Rafa was still panting heavily, his nostrils still flared as he shot Daveed a hard look - but he didn't say anything.

They had feelings for the same girl... Daveed frustratedly pinched the bridge of his nose as the realisation sank in; a girl had come between them. How high school... "Shit," he said quietly, "what do we do now?"

Rafa shot him a dark look and answered immediately: "you back down!" he said harshly but not as aggressively as before.

"I'm not going to back down, Rafa," Daveed answered him quietly. He full-on intended on making you his no matter what Rafa's feelings were.

"I've been in love with her for eight years!" Rafa spat angrily but he had stopped yelling, "You have for eight minutes! Don't you think it's more fair that you let me have a shot?!"

Daveed was getting more and more frustrated by the second but was happy that Rafa had chosen to use those exact words: "Exactly Rafa! You had eight years! You sat on your hands for eight years and you expect her to come running to you now? You expect me to let you have a shot? You've had millions of opportunities to do something!"

Rafa's face was still wild but his tone of voice was quiet and determined: "you saw the look she just sent me!" he said darkly.

Daveed had to give it to him; the way you'd been staring at Rafa had confused him too: "Listen, I don't know what the fuck that was, but if she had any feelings for you at all, why would she go home with me?" He said quietly, "why would she take off her clothes for me and not you?"

Rafa shook his head back and forth as if refusing to believe the argument, "No..." he croaked, "please don't say it like that, man..."

"Bruh..." Daveed sighed, "I'm sorry it is this way, but I don't know what else to tell you." He felt bad for Rafa but he wasn't going to back down. No chance.

"Please don't fuck her," Rafa pleaded quietly. His heart obviously broken.

"You know I'm not going to guarantee you that..."

"Just... Let me talk to her first."

"What do you expect to gain from that?"

"She wants to talk to me too..."

"Maybe - but it won't go your way. She's lying naked in my bed right now! She made her decision, bruh."

Rafa looked pained. He was clutching his chest with his eyes screwed shut, a small tear rolling down his cheek, "fuck!" he quietly worded before he fell to his knees in front of the toilet and threw up.

You

"I'm going to murder him for this!" Daveed pulled himself away from you and on to his feet, desperately looking around the room for something to wear. He finally pulled out a pair of clean boxers from his closet, pulled them on, and hurried out of the bedroom to see what was going on with Rafa. He had sounded very drunk and even though you had been slightly amused by his constant swearing throughout the house, the sound of glass smashing combined with his drunk cries for help, had also left you a bit nervous that something serious might've happened to him. What if he had cut himself badly and Daveed couldn't handle it alone? Rafa was your friend too after all. You had to make sure everything was all right with him.

Quickly, you jumped from Daveed's bed, pulled on your panties, and looked around the room for something to wear that could cover your body as your own dress had been discarded during the make-out session in the hallway. You quickly located a black t-shirt that was casually thrown over a chair in the corner of the room and pulled it over your head, grateful that it covered you all the way down to the top of your thighs. Ready to leave Daveed's bedroom, and with your hand already on the doorknob, you took a brief look at yourself in the mirror to make sure you were decent. You tried padding down your messy sex-hair but the sound of Rafa hissing in pain from the other room had you abandon any thought of trying to fix your looks - Rafa's injuries seemed much more urgent. Forcing your eyes away from your own reflection, you opened the door to the hallway instead and listened for their voices.

"Just fix my hand, okay?! Make it stop bleeding!" you heard Rafa slur from the room next door. He was clearly very drunk.

"Sit still!!" Daveed growled.

It sounded as if they had the situation under control and you were just about to go back to Daveed's bed and wait for him there when you heard Rafa exclaim, "Oh fuck! Fuck it hurts!"

It made you do a U-turn on your heel and you decided to check in on the two men to see if they were in need of any extra help. Softly, you knocked on the door but didn't listen for an answer as you immediately poked in your head and took in the scene in the small bathroom: the two men were sitting next to each other; Daveed on the edge of the bathtub with Rafa's bloody hand in his lap while Rafa was splayed on the floor looking very drunk. Both of them were looking directly up at you with equally soft expressions on their faces. Daveed's eyes were loving as he silently apologised for having to help his best friend clean up. Rafa, on the other hand, was staring up at you with a sorrowful look on his pale face, his eyes huge and red-rimmed, his Adam's apple bouncing up and down in his throat as he gulped hard.

The tension between them was thick, the air cold. Both of them clearly equally annoyed with the other.

"Is everything alright in here?" You asked quietly as you pushed open the door and stepped inside, tugging on your t-shirt to prevent it from riding up.

"Rafa cut himself..." Daveed rolled his eyes so only you could see before he continued, "- and apparently he's too drunk to handle it alone," he shot Rafa an annoyed sideway-glance before he turned his attention to the gauze and Rafa's blood-covered hand in his lap.

You watched Rafa send Daveed an equally irritated glance, looking as if he was biting his tongue to keep himself from retorting something nasty. He had probably already realised that he needed Daveed's help to get the wound to stop bleeding and that he wouldn't get it by being crass. So instead, Rafa silently let Daveed wrap his hand as his eyes slowly found yours, his expression immediately changing from annoyed to soft.

You sent him a small reassuring smile and a goofy expression emerged on his drunk face when he happily reciprocated it. You let out a small laugh at his expression and he blinked a few times, looking as if he was saving the sound on his mental hard drive. His foggy eyes were softly gazing up at you with a soulful look, and he looked drunk but cute as he took you in, a weird undertone in his gaze that you couldn't quite place. It was a look that you recognised from somewhere, but not from him - from someone else. You scanned his face one more time, raking your brain to find out from where you knew the gaze, he was sending you, but it wasn't immediately clear. Suddenly however, you realised that it was the same look that Daveed had sent you several times over the last couple of weeks. It was a look of longing.

Softly, you cocked your head at him, and he sent you a small, sad smile in return, his green eyes kindly taking in your face before they travelled down your body, ultimately landing on your chest. You immediately folded your arms, and he looked back up into your eyes, your eyebrows now arched in an unimpressed manner, silently tell him that he'd been caught staring red-handed. His face screwed up in a painful expression and he paled a bit before he quietly slurred, "'s that my shirt?".

Unaware of what he was talking about, you looked towards the mirror above the sink on the opposite side of the bathroom wall, and when you caught your own reflection, you realised that he hadn't been staring at your chest. He'd been staring at the logo on the t-shirt. The Raiders logo - his football team. You weren't wearing Daveed's shirt. You were wearing Rafa's.

You'd seen him in it multiple times - hell, he'd even worn it the night you'd kissed on top of the skate ramps. You remembered because every so often your mind wandered back to that night. Played it on repeat. Rafa's hand on your thigh as Stevie Nicks' voice rang in the background. Your tongues intertwining. The stubble on his chin soft between your fingertips. The scent of his warm cologne. The thought of your passionate kiss that summer night eight years ago was enough to make a warm feeling appear in your stomach.

Still looking at yourself in the mirror, you let your arms drop to the side and took in your own reflection. The t-shirt was a few sizes too big for you and it covered you like a short dress, just barely reaching below the red panties you were wearing underneath. The Raiders logo took up most of the front of the shirt and the logo curved nicely along your breasts and waistline, making the oversized men's shirt actually look as if it'd been tailored to you. You liked this look. You actually looked good in Rafa's t-shirt.

From far away you heard Daveed's voice, "let it go, bruh," and it pulled you back to reality.

"Oh... Raiders..." you said quietly, unable to pry your eyes away from the way the t-shirt was hugging your curves. No wonder Rafa was staring at you. You had gone home with his roomie, yet you'd put on his shirt - and you even looked good in it. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise," you croaked.

Rafa was looking as if he was thinking about the same thing as you, and for a second you were afraid that he might get angry about the fact that Daveed's flirt was wearing his beloved Raiders t-shirt, but he just softly said, "yeah, no. Don't be. It looks good on you..."

You didn't react to his words but merely stared at yourself in the mirror as the memories of your Tacos Locos summer once more flooded your mind - and you slowly felt a dull ache in your chest when you looked back at Rafa's pained expression and realised that maybe there was a reason for his look of longing, his quiet, pained reaction to seeing you half-naked in his shirt when you'd gone home with his best friend. He probably wasn't as cool with you and Daveed as Daveed had let on. Maybe your suspicion about why Rafa had invited you to join his production was right after all...

Oh no.

The thought of kissing Rafa again had grazed your mind several times in the period of time between his phone call offering you the job, and your first day on set where you'd been introduced to his best friend for the first time. Daveed, however, had immediately pushed every sensual thought of Rafa out of your head and had instead replaced them with unholy thoughts about himself. The sexual attraction that you had felt towards Daveed for the past month was insane and you were definitely crazy about him! ...Still, you wondered if he was the type of man, you'd still fantasise about eight years after having shared a passionate kiss in the dark. The same way you so often had found yourself fantasising about Rafa.

...had you just made a huge mistake?

Rafa's cheeks paled considerably as his gaze constantly shifted between your face and the Raiders logo. He was clearly affected by the fact that you were wearing his shirt and nothing else, and it looked as if he was having a hard time sitting still. The tender yet hurtful look he sent you made you feel horrible about yourself and all the decisions that had led to this exact moment. What if things had been different back in the taco truck eight years ago? What if he had actually taken you home after one of your late nights out? And what if Daveed hadn't been so persistent in hooking up with you over the last couple of weeks? If he hadn't been so smooth and charming, would he still have been able to swoop in right before Rafa? Or would you eventually have gone home with Rafa instead?

Would it feel more right to be sleeping in Rafa's bed tonight?

Oh no...

"Shit!" Daveed's voice brought you back from your panicky train of thought. You looked over at him, his face sweet and innocent as he was helping his best friend recover, and you realised: no, it wouldn't feel more right to be sleeping in Rafa's bed tonight. But it would feel just as right as sleeping in Daveed's.

"Baby, can you get me more gauze out of the cabinet?" he continued.

Baby. It had slipped out of him. He hadn't even realised it... The caring, handsome man in front of you had called you baby and you couldn't help but send him a small smile as it had made you soft. You were baby to him.

Rafa had a reaction to the pet name too: he looked as if he was about to murder Daveed.

Desperately trying to untangle yourself from the situation you had put yourself in, you turned over to the cabinets and pulled out more gauze, promptly handing it over to Daveed before resuming your position in the doorframe.

Immediately, you and Rafa went back to staring at each other again, both unable to look away. The looks he was sending you were deep and longing, his eyes pained as he grew more and more tense with each passing second. He looked as if he wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you tight. Shit.

Your eyes were flickering fast between the two men: both of them sweet and handsome. Both of them crazy about you. You couldn't decide whether or not you had made a mistake by choosing to go home with Daveed tonight.

Daveed broke the tension in the small bathroom when he in an irritated tone of voice said, "Look, I can bandage this to keep it from bleeding all over, but you need to go to the hospital for stitches or something."

Rafa let out a small grunt without looking away from you. It looked as if he wanted to tell you something but was unable to with Daveed being present. It was heart-breaking.

You liked Daveed very much but realised that you had to talk to Rafa as well. You had to hear what he had to say, "...I can take you," you piped up in a voice that was weirdly nervous, "I can drive. I almost didn't drink tonight."

"You'd - you'd do that?" Rafa said in a whisper and sent you a warm look.

"Of course," you nodded slowly, suddenly desperate to talk to him, to hear his thoughts, "Let me just grab some pants, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks," Rafa said quietly, his pained expression now completely replaced by a hopeful one.

Daveed had definitely noticed that something was going on with you because the annoyance was practically seeping out of him though he was trying his best to keep calm. He did something to Rafa's hand that had Rafa hissing in pain and shooting Daveed an angry look with his lips pressed together in a thin, white line.

Your eyes whipped over to Daveed as well. He was sending you a hurt look that said 'what the fuck are you doing?' and you gulped guiltily. Had he realised that you were unsure about what to do with the two men in front of you?

"Nope!" Daveed said loudly, shaking his head vigorously, "Not gonna happen. Uh-uh, absolutely no fucking way. Rafa you can take a cab!" he shot Rafa a hard look before he turned back to you, his eyes soft, but his voice full of irritation, "Baby, go back to bed, I'll be there in a second!"

There it was again. Baby. You looked into Daveed's soft brown eyes that were looking pleadingly back at you, your knees immediately weak. Slowly, you let your gaze wander a bit to the left and met Rafa's huge green eyes too. They also made you feel incredibly soft.

Daveed noticed your gaze drifting over to Rafa and harshly interjected, "he'll take a cab, okay!"

Rafa sent you a slight nod as if to say that it was alright for you to leave, and that he could handle Daveed and his bleeding hand on his own. Meanwhile Daveed was staring at his best friend with a murderous look in his eyes. You realised that they had to resolve some stuff too, so even though it hurt in your chest, you slowly turned away from the two men, and walked back to Daveed's bedroom. Just before the door to the bathroom closed behind you, you heard the beginning of an argument between the two friends: "Ah! Dude what the fuck!" Rafa yelped loudly.

To which Daveed angrily responded with a "What the fuck was that all about? You're flirting with my girl!" It was more a statement than a question.

You sat awkwardly on Daveed's bed, unsure of what to do now. Daveed had noticed the long looks between you and Rafa. Shit. Even though you hadn't intended it, you had still managed to turn them against each other.

You could hear their angry voices from the other side of the wall, but you didn't want to listen in on their private conversation, so you put your fingers in your ears. Their shouted words were not meant for you. It was a desperate conversation between two best friends, and even though you could've easily followed their screaming match, it didn't seem right to do so. Desperately, you pressed in on your ear canal and started humming softly to tune out most of their angry words. Still, snippets of their loud conversation penetrated your ears.

"Rafa, you have no history with her!" Daveed was yelling before Rafa's voice was heard a few seconds later: "Did you not see how she was eye-fucking me just now?" followed a little while later by a loud "Fuck you!" from Rafa and an angry "you really want me to beat you up?" from Daveed. They kept yelling loudly at each other, but you tried not to decipher their angry words as you found them private. There was a reason why they had sent you out of the bathroom after all.

After a few minutes, their angry yells finally died down completely and were instead replaced by muffled words in normal voices that you couldn't make out even if you tried. You slowly removed your fingers from your ears, instead burying your face in your hands, angry with yourself for having let it come to this.

Their muffled voices could be heard for a few seconds before the sound was disrupted by someone retching.

One of them was throwing up, the other completely silent. You listened intently for a few seconds to see if you could make out who was throwing up, hoping that the other would say some words of comfort, but neither of them spoke, and after about a minute of silence, you heard footsteps approaching the room you were lying in. The doorknob twisted and Daveed entered the room slowly, his eyes full of pain as he took you in. He sat down on the bed next to you, panting hard, obviously very upset about the entire situation. It hurt seeing him like this. And it hurt thinking about Rafa lying alone in the bathroom. You dried an annoying tear away from your cheek and just barely managed to reset your face before Daveed looked up at you with a sad smile. You did your best to look casual as if you hadn't got the faintest idea of what their screaming match had been about. You acted as if wearing Rafa's shirt meant nothing. Seeing his pained expression had done nothing. Hearing him sob in the bathroom made you feel no ways.

"Everything okay?" You asked Daveed carefully.

"Yeah," he grunted.

"How about Rafa?" you said quietly. Even the sound of his name hurt in your chest.

"He's..." Daveed's words died in his throat as he frustratedly buried his face in his hands with a deep sigh.

You gulped, "is he okay alone out there?"

"Can we please not talk about Rafa right now?" he said slowly.

"Yeah..." you nodded quietly, "come here," you folded your arms around his chest, hugging him tight. He pulled you on top of him and hugged you back, his strong arms squeezing you, bringing you comfort as if he knew what you were going through as well. You sat like this for a few seconds, your arms wrapped tightly around each other comforting the broken feeling you both felt in your chests until his lips slowly found their way to your neck, leaving sweet, sensual kisses to the side of your throat.

"Look," you said quietly, pulling yourself away from him and looking into his chocolate brown eyes, "it's not that I don't enjoy this, but I just think it's for the best if I go home."

"What? No?" Daveed looked up at you with a pained expression, "come on, we can't let Rafa ruin our night," he groaned and moved closer to you but suddenly paused, "unless you don't want to of course. I don't want to force you into anything," he looked carefully at you and you understood why. He wanted to make sure that you were comfortable with the decision you were making. Comfortable with him.

It made you realise that the fact that you were lying in Daveed's bedroom half-naked, meant that you had made your choice long ago. You needed to stick with it.

"Yeah, okay," you said and moved your lips close to his, kissing him softly.

"You have no idea how happy that makes me," he groaned against your lips and you felt him breathe a sigh of relief as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He quickly pulled Rafa's t-shirt over your head, and harshly threw it onto the ground next to the bed. You couldn't help but think of the symbolics in his heated gesture.

His warm hands immediately found your breasts and he started running his fingers over your nipples with a low growl. You enjoyed the confident, hungry look he sent you as you were once again bare-chested in front of him. He moved his face closer to yours, "I still fully intent on making you feel good and make you let loose a little," he repeated his words from earlier that evening with a smile and carefully pushed you down on the bed, a warm shiver travelling up your spine with his words and movements. He hovered above you before his lips started pressing small, peppered kisses to the side of your throat, his one hand running down your stomach and dipping down between your legs, making you gasp softly. His lips moved over your collarbone and down between the valley of your breasts, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, and making you arch your back against him, as you felt his erection pressed up between your legs. He groaned as he pushed his boxer-clad erection closer to you, looking down at you with an erotic spark in his eye. Your fingers found his soft hair and you raked a hand through his curls and reciprocated the look he was sending you; dark and sensual.

You were both getting lost in the sensations you were causing each other when you were interrupted by the sound of Rafa retching and his heart-breaking sobs from the next room. It made your stomach ache horribly and you interrupted the kiss with Daveed, looking towards the wall to the bathroom instead. "I'm sorry, I can't just leave him alone with that..."

"What? You're not serious?" He looked at you with a disappointed look on his face.

"Listen to him," you said softly, as Rafa let out another heartbroken sob.

"He'll be fine," Daveed responded harshly before he resumed kissing your throat.

You pulled your face away from him, raking a hand through his hair one more time, "he's your best friend. Do you really want him to be alone right now? He sounds so heartbroken."

"Trust me - you do not want to deal with him right now."

Rafa retched loudly.

"I'm sorry," you kissed Daveed briefly, "but I have to make sure he's okay. I'll be back in a second."

Daveed let out an irritated grunt but eventually let go of you so you could crawl down from his lap. You quickly found the Raiders t-shirt on the floor and pulled it over your head, exiting the bedroom in a swift motion.

You knocked quietly on the door to the bathroom and found Rafa lying on the floor next to the toilet sobbing quietly. "Rafa, honey, are you okay?" you said softly as you sat down next to him and carefully put your hand on his chest.

He took a deep breath and looked up at you with wet eyes. The gaze he sent you was bloodshot, but he wasn't as pale as before. Throwing up some of the alcohol had definitely done him some good. "Hey," he whispered in a raspy voice as he put his good hand on top of yours, closing his eyes again taking three deep breaths. You noticed that he didn't answer your question.

As you pulled your hand away from his chest to fix him a glass of water, he groaned at the lack of touch and sat up straight, sleepily resting his head on the edge of the tub, looking at you with tired, sad eyes.

"Are you done throwing up?" you asked him as you handed him the glass.

He took a big gulp and nodded "I think so... Listen, can we talk?"

You sent him a small smile, "tomorrow, okay?" you didn't want to cause him anymore heartbreak tonight, "let's get you to bed," you held out your hand.

"Yeah, okay..." he took your hand and let you pull him to his feet. He was still very drunk, so you had to help him with his balance, your arm tightly wrapped around his waist, "come here," you chuckled and walked him to his room with his arm draped over your shoulder. As soon as you entered his personal space, he threw himself down on the bed with a loud groan.

"You're not going to disrobe?" you chuckled at him.

"Yeah, no... I don't care right now," he said and closed his eyes, "I just want to sleep... Let this absolute shit night be over."

You guiltily shook your head and forcefully pulled off his Chelsea boots and socks.

"Are you trying to get me naked?" He joked sleepily from the bed; his eyes closed.

"I'm trying to get you comfortable," you chuckled, "you have to take off your shirt and pants yourself."

Rafa groaned but sat up straight before he pulled his shirt over his head. His eyes were still closed, and his long hair was falling in unruly strands around his face. He looked exhausted as he undid the button on his pants and slid them off himself, plumping down on the bed afterwards.

"You don't think I'll bleed to death, do you?" he groaned and lifted his bandaged hand a little.

"I'm absolutely positive you won't," you chuckled at him, "if it's still bleeding tomorrow, I'll take you to the hospital, okay?"

"Okay, can't wait," he smiled sleepily and gave out a quiet snore as if he'd briefly fallen asleep. He was lying flat on his back which gave you time to study the tattoos he had on his chest and forearms. Some of them you didn't like, others were beautiful. He had one on his pec that you'd never seen before.

"If I love you, I have to make you conscious of the things you don't see," you read out loud, looking at his chest.

Even though Rafa had his eyes closed and looked as if he was just about to fall asleep again, he knew what you were talking about and softly tapped the tattoo he had on his pec, "that's right," he slurred with a small smile. For the first time since he'd cut himself, he looked as if he was peaceful, and you tugged one of his long strands of blonde hair away from his eyes and behind his ear instead. Your fingers lingered on his cheek for a second and he kissed your palm with a small hum, "that means that I have to make you conscious of the things you don't see," he whispered before he drifted off completely.

"Alright Rafa," you chuckled quietly as you ran your fingers through his soft hair. He had started breathing heavily, already fast asleep, "thanks for explaining the words of your tattoo with the exact same words!" You got up from the bed and quietly closed the door behind you as you walked out into the hallway.

You'd only walked a few steps towards Daveed's room when the meaning behind Rafa's sentence hit you and you froze in place. Inside your head, the written words of the tattoo and Rafa's whispered words played on repeat. He hadn't explained the tattoo to you. He had told you that he loved you.

He loved you. Rafa was in love with you.

And you were walking towards the bedroom of his best friend. You turned your head slightly, looking towards Rafa's room. Should you go back to him? Or continue to Daveed? You were completely frozen in time, desperately looking between the two bedroom doors on either side of the bathroom in the hallway, realising that even though you might have been lying naked in Daveed's arms only minutes before, Rafa's words hurt so much in your chest that your decision-making was far from over.

Rafa's room was to the left. He had just confessed his feelings for you. Or, he didn't just have feelings for you; he was in love with you. Probably had been since your summer together in the taco truck. You wouldn't say that you were in love with him, but there was definitely raw, heated attraction towards him on your part as well, or you wouldn't still be thinking about your drunk kiss in the dark eight years ago, the way he was always able to make you laugh, his soft, green eyes. It hurt in your chest to think about how you'd potentially wasted eight years without him by your side. If you went to him, you'd either finally be able to stop thinking of him as 'the one who got away' and actually engage in something romantic with him - or you'd see that eight years of absence might have grown the heart so fond that you had put him on a pedestal that he couldn't live up to.

Daveed's room was to the right. He was waiting for you in there, probably ready to fuck you so good that you wouldn't be able to remember your own name. The preview he'd given you earlier tonight had definitely shown you that he was able to bring all your sexual fantasies to life! And you had craved his touch for so long, to feel his strong hands on your body as he slid into you while whispering sweet words in your ear. You and him definitely had some insane potential - not to mention the fact that he was already calling you baby! He was so crazy about you that you were baby to him! - but did you feel the same emotional attraction to him? Or was the warm feeling in your stomach whenever you looked at him all due to sexual attraction? Could you and he ever become more than raw passion?

No matter what, you'd have to choose between them. You couldn't have both. With whomever you chose, you'd never be able to have the other.

Carefully, you weighed both your options; left or right? Rafa or Daveed?

You started at both of their doors, unsure about where to go, but eventually made a decision. With a deep breath, you stepped closer to the wooden door, grabbed door handle and stepped inside, softly closing the door behind you as you took in the handsome man on the bed.

Tagging: @exrthangel @theatrenerd86 @lonelydance @ohsoverykeri @summerofsnowflakes @ramp-it-up @alexander-hamilhoe @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @riiyy @mysearchforgratification @janthony-stan @sillyteecup @biafbunny @einfachniemand @cashskid @namelesslosers @simpinforu​ @diggsbeatriz​ (Imma keep tagging you unless you say something lol).

....No spoilers in the comments please :-) 

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

@sajdd

Ok since one singular person asked for this the Big Explanation for Everything In My C!Tommy Design.

General:

c!Tommy, in general, I always try and find a balance between my really soft style and c!Tommy's rougher personality. I draw him with soft features but very sharp eyes, both to make his facial features distinct from cc!Tommy and a contrast to c!Tubbo who I draw with less rounded features but much softer eyes. I try and keep his usual expressions slightly smug and self-assured, to get across c!Tommy's bravado.

I generally draw him with tanned skin, as I imagine he’d spend a lot of time outdoors. This does vary on the arc I’m drawing him in, though, for example he’s much less tan in Pogtopia because he has less access to natural light whereas he’s more tan in exile due to not having much shelter from the sun. This is also done to make the pale scar on his nose bridge more noticeable- it’s one of the two scars I draw Tommy as having from the beginning, as I feel it shows c!Tommy's scrappy, determined personality very well. The other scar is a long jagged vivisection scar which is there to show my labinnit headcanon lol.

While I draw c!Tommy with varying hairstyles and lengths, I always draw him with curly textured hair that’s a very pale blond. I also draw his hair as leaning to one side and partially covering his eye, similar to how I draw c!Wilbur's hair, to show their closeness. I also draw c!Tommy with similar wings to c!Wilbur and c!Philza- specifically, I draw them with the same starry night sky pattern I do with c!Philza, but a lot smaller and atrophied.

I really like putting lots of fun design elements in characters eyes because drawing eyes is fun and c!Tommy is no exception! I draw his eyes a very bright electric blue, and I use a small brush and very light varied colours to make them look like they’re filled with little stars. I also give him red pupils to match his main colour association in either the shape of a full or broken heart depending on the arc. I went with a heart design to show his hidden kindness and loyalty.

There’s also a lot of design elements that are admittedly there primarily because I enjoy drawing them, and less for any specific reason. The fangs do have the most reason, to help show c!Tommy's rougher personality, but I also just like drawing fangs lol. (I also draw him with braces in every arc, since I imagine he couldn’t get them removed in exile and he didn’t have the time to care afterwards). I also draw him with bioluminescent, starlike freckles and a strange blood colour which is also used to help texture the skin (well, slightly, it’s not super noticeable but it’s pink instead of red) which are both just things I like to draw.

Also, this is a small detail, but I always draw c!Tommy with a Church Prime necklace (unless I forget it which I do sometimes lol). It’s a good way of showing his faith through a quick look.

Fun fact, what’s probably most noticeable about my c!Tommy design is that as soon as Tommy made the joke about his character being made in a lab I picked it up and ran with it, specifically the idea of him potentially being a clone of c!Philza. I draw them with identical facial features and hair colour/texture, though a lot of the more supernatural features of c!Philza are toned down on him. That’s specifically because due to my hc that c!Philza is an angel and angels as ageless it’d be impossible to clone them exactly so c!Tommy has some random human/hybrid dna thrown in haphazardly (which also makes him a mess of instincts from pretty much every animal ever lol)

Disc War:

I really like the headcanon that c!Tommy was nine during the L'Manburg war entirely because its really funny to imagine c!Wilbur looking at this literal nine year old and being “yes, my right hand man, responsible enough to help manage a nation in my stead,” so c!Tommy is roughly 9ish around this time in my design.

During the early Disc War is probably the only time I actually draw c!Tommy as close to his actual Minecraft skin lmao. It helps show that, despite the fact I don’t hc him as human he is mostly just a normal kid. I don’t draw c!Tommy in the traditional red and white t-shirt entirely just because I want to make sure he’s not mistakable for Dave Strider though. I have him in a white button-up shirt, a red and white hoodie, cargo pants, and trainers.

During this arc, I draw c!Tommy's hair as fairly short and very similar to how I draw c!Wilbur, as this was back when he idolised his brother and I think drawing their hair so similar shows that well.

L'Manburg:

This covers the time from the beginning of the L'Manburg war up to c!Tommy's second exile to Pogtopia, so this design covers a period of years from when I hc c!Tommy was nine up until about thirteen.

During the war, c!Tommy wears his uniform without modification, except for of course wearing his Prime necklace, but afterwards he and the rest of the residents of L'Manburg (except c!Wilbur) slightly modified their uniforms to better fit their own tastes. Specifically, he wears his trainers instead of combat boots, loose trousers instead of shorts, and a slightly shorter and short-sleeved revolutionary jacket, for easier mobility.

During the war, his two canon deaths left him permanent injuries and scars. His death in the final control room, where he broke his leg during his desperate attempt to escape, left that leg permanently weakened (along with being badly scarred) and requiring a leg brace to help him stand and walk properly. The arrow through his skull during his duel with c!Dream left him with a large scar on his temple, covering his brows in crack-like scars which also leave him with frequent migraines.

During the L'Manburg arc, c!Tommy's hair in my design still looks like c!Wilburs as they were still close during this arc.

Pogtopia:

Since Pogtopia apparently lasted two years (which is probably from Cursed Timeline Lore but I love cursed lore it’s hilarious,) c!Tommy would be around 13 to 15 here.

In Pogtopia, I draw c!Tommy as wearing similar clothes to during the Disc War arc, however, I also add on a loose belt holding knives, to show c!Tommy's increased need for self defence along with his fondness for knives lol. I actually don’t do the bandanna design with c!Tommy and c!Tubbo a lot of people do mostly because I couldn’t figure out how to get it to work with c!Tommy's hoodie. They have an equivalent but it’s later on alas.

As c!Tommy and c!Wilbur get more distant, c!Tommy grows out his hair slightly, and wears it tied in the back in a short ponytail.

Exile:

Oh I have a lot of things to talk about here >:). As a quick note to my messed up timeline, c!Tommy would be 15 here.

During exile, c!Tommy wears the same clothes as he did in Pogtopia initially, though due to lack of care and supplies, they eventually of course fray and rip. He also wears c!Wilbur's old ragged longcoat, even though it barely keeps out the cold, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes weirdly comforting. Over time, he rips up his shirt for bandages to the point he’s not wearing anything under his hoodie. His leg brace breaks and he makes a new one out of branches and leaves. (He could ask c!Dream, but he doesn’t want to be fucking reliant on him, relying on pity handouts like a child, so he won’t.)

Eventually, since c!Dream doesn’t exactly want c!Tommy to get hypothermia and die anticlimactically, he gives c!Tommy one of his capes. This is one of my favourite character design decisions I’ve made lmao. I specifically draw it looking too-big, despite the fact that doesn’t make much sense because they’re the same height, so it looks almost like he’s getting enveloped in c!Dream's green shades, and it also hides c!Tommy's wings which helps reinforce the loss of freedom.

c!Tommy gains… a lot of scars over exile. I mean he was literally hit by an axe multiple times. Specifically they’re primarily around the shoulders or the torso. I also draw him with a Glasgow grin, specifically curved to resemble Dream's mask, along with smaller, self inflicted, scratch and bite marks covering his arms. In addition, due to him barely eating I draw c!Tommy from this point onwards looking very scrawny. This is also where c!Tommy's pupils change from hearts to broken hearts! They never turn back :)

During exile, Tommy's hair grows out a lot, down to just past his shoulders, in a matted mess. c!Dream used to braid it at the back, like how I draw c!Dream's own hair, but it very quickly grew too matted with saltwater, mud, and blood to style :) :) :)

Bedrock Bros:

c!Tommy turns sixteen here during my scuffed timeline.

c!Tommy patches up the rips and tears in his clothes. He can’t fully salvage his cargo trousers, so he turns them into shorts. He makes his own shoes out of leather to replace the ones he lost. There’s a gaping hole in his hoodie pocket that couldn’t be stitched up. He'll patch it up later. c!Techno gives him one of his capes to keep him warm, fur lined and arctic blue with silvery snowflakes embroidered on. c!Tommy has to be reminded, or he puts on the green cape, turned a dull viridian from the sun, that makes him feel both safe and so, so afraid.

Scars heal, but never fully fade. Still, his eyes brighten again, somewhat, even if the bags under his eyes less disappear and more just turn a strange gold. He finally has the time to clean out his hair, and c!Techno ties it into a short, loose braid at the back. With the cape, he almost looks like c!Techno like that. Obviously, the visual implication here is to show that even though it’s obviously not exile, c!Techno is still suppressing c!Tommy's identity, albeit unknowingly (and the gold is from his constant eating of golden apples).

Final Disc War:

By this point, c!Tommy's back to just wearing his old clothes, tattered and frail as they might be. He finds his old sneakers, and day by day he sees himself in the mirror a bit more than the gunpowder on a battered trenchcoat, blood on a smiley face mask, wither rot on the edges of an elaborate snowy cape. He patches the hole in his hoodie with a piece of the fabric from one of c!Tubbo's old shirts. He lends him one of his too-small hoodies so he can do the same.

He still braids his hair, but in his own way, in a tightly woven ratstail braid more for convenience than for aesthetics. Character design wise, it’s another way to show c!Tommy's openly rougher personality than say, c!Dream or c!Techno, and so’s the patchwork clothes and rough shorts and scars. Like I said, maintaining a mix of rough and soft is very important to me in how I draw c!Tommy, and I’m very satisfied with how I pull it off here and in the next entry.

Revival:

the story has handed me the opportunity to make my favourite boy undead. i will not pass up the opportunity to make my favourite boy undead.

After revival, c!Tommy stops aging, at least in appearance. His skin… less pale, more colourless and almost grey. One of his eyes glows a pure, empty white now, like ghosts do, and the white messy streak in his hair doesn’t glow but it’s white enough it might as well.

The injuries of his death bear apparent on his form. His limbs can bend at impossible angles, his entire body covered head to toe in bruises. Two black eyes cover his face like a raccoon mask, and the ugly mottled marks of strangulation on his throat stand out like a sore thumb. You cannot look at him anymore and not see that he hasn’t died. He avoids mirrors again.

There’s stranger things, too, like how he doesn’t bleed anymore, any cuts just revealing an impossibly dark void beneath his marble-cold skin. Sometimes he goes weeks without eating, the hunger only hitting once he realises. He feels so tired, so cold, in a way not even the touch of fire can stem at all. He doesn’t have a heartbeat, or breathe.

Initially, he was too tired, too out of it to even consider cutting off or dying the white streak. When he wasn’t, he’d soon learn any attempts were futile, dye fading in mere days, cut off hair half regrown in a week. It should bother him more, but he just feels numb.

[thefanficmonster]

Icy Fairytale

Boyinaband (Dave Brown) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Falling in love is walking on thin ice in and of itself, but what happens when it's literal? Yeah that's right - two ambitious individuals fall head over heels for one another on the delicate icy ground of a Brighton ice skating rink.

Requested by @onceuponadie Hi! Thank you so much for your request! I'm so sorry for the long wait but I still hope you find the time to enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

No matter how hard I try, I can't tie the laces of my skates properly. I can't tell what's wrong with me today but I know something's seriously not right. To be perfectly honest though, I might have an idea or two as to why this is happening to me but I'd rather keep my mouth shut on the subject to avoid the intense blush and the flock of butterflies that will inevitably attack my stomach. And I can't have that many distractions while I'm on the ice.

Oh who am I kidding, my main distraction is always there, either in front of me or by my side. Sometimes even holding onto me for support.

Dave Brown is the name of it.

The name I was completely indifferent to when it was first brought to my attention.

It was a cold rainy day in Brighton, the town I was still on-the-fence about at the time. My trainer had been wanting to collaborate with a trainer from the UK for a while and had finally scheduled and arranged for the two of us to be able to fly out there and meet with him. I thought my trainer was ambitious, but this this new guy was a whole new level of ambitious. I could tell right away he'd be hard to please and I had no issue with that - I am and I always have been a goal-getter; I myself am hard to please and I've often been called an 'obsessed artist' by my trainer so I was beyond excited for this new extraordinary and challenging journey.

I just didn't know that the challenging part wouldn't be the skating.

After a particularly long practice session, once I was finally left alone by my trainers, I stuck around at the skating rink to wind down and feel the freedom of skating how I want and how I know I'm supposed to. Free like a bird gliding through the sky, not bound by any choreography or anyone's rules and opinions. That's when I'm most myself.

And that's when I met him.

The rink was closed and suppose to be reserved for only me and my coaches for the day but him and his friends - now my friend too - Joel probably didn't think much of the notice on the door considering they had waltzed in with zero idea the vicinity was booked.

I was too entranced in my own world to notice their presence by the seats. I only took notice of the fact I wasn't alone when Joel called out to me.

"Are we interrupting? Is this a private session or something? We can leave, sorry for bothering you."

While the other boy was talking, Dave remained silent, blending into the background and not drawing any of my attention to him. And yes, maybe I was supposed to turn them back, tell them to leave and whatnot, but I did the exact opposite.

"Private session's over, you can stick around, it's not a problem." I said, slowly gliding over to the entrance of the rink where the boys were now standing after they finished climbing down the stairs to approach the ice rink.

I stopped in my tracks rather abruptly as to not crash into them, stabilizing myself before offering them my hand for a handshake. "I'm Y/N. Professional figure skater."

I couldn't help but let out a little giggle when their jaws went loose, hanging open in surprise. They were quick to regain their composure, Joel being the one to accept my hand first, followed by Dave, both of them introducing themselves as they did so.

"Cool streak." I casually pointed at the red streak in Dave's hair, "I've always wanted to dye my hair but I'm not allowed to by my trainer."

He scoffed at my remark, "Your trainer? He's got the audacity to boss you around? Does he not realize how lucky he is to have a skater like you to his name?"

I was understandably taken aback by this compliment. I'm used to being given compliments after my performances in competitions, but I've never considered my unchoreographed skating as anything more than mediocre. It was surprising to receive such a positive remark, heartwarming nonetheless though.

"That's so kind of you to say, Dave, thanks." I'm still a long way from knowing how to properly respond to compliments - mostly cause I don't believe them - but I'd like to think I handled that one well. No, I know I handled it well considering Dave, Joel and I have been friends ever since.

As to why they were at the skating rink that day - they wanted to fulfill a New Year's resolution they had made at the start of the year: learning how to ice skate because apparently they were hopeless at it. And yes, they were - they got on the ice with me that day and were dropping like flies. I considered it a miracle if they were even able to get off their asses on their own. I had to pull them up a couple of times - a gesture they paid me back for with lunch afterwards. Following that day, only Dave remained determined to make his resolution count and he kept coming to the ice rink to practice (read: fall and get back up) and learn with my help of course. It's safe to say I've never laughed so much in such a short period of time and never have I ever established a friendship so quickly with anyone ever. I guess being someone's ice skating buddy is a whole different level of a friendship where the rules of a regular friendship don't apply.

I soon came to realize why that was...

Because I suddenly found myself wanting more than a friendship with Dave. It's ridiculous as hell, as all goddamn hell, but I couldn't and still can't help myself. It's these little subtle signs that shine through my behavior, all completely unintentional. The lingering hold meant to keep him stable on his skates. The firm eye contact when I'm trying to get him to focus on his balance. The little touches and hugs all gestures meant to congratulate him on his little wins like falling and managing to get to his feet on his own; managing to make three solid strides without sprawling out on the ice, etc. I must be the worst ice skating instructor ever - as Dave gained more balance and needed my assistance less, I found myself missing the times I literally had to hold him up, his arms wrapped around me and mine around him. I miss the times he held my hand to avoid falling and still fell, sometimes dragging me down with him.

And I'm only gonna miss those times even more after tomorrow because after tomorrow, I'll no longer be in the UK and I'll no longer be there to see Dave's successes and fails. I'll no longer have him be my distraction, the only distraction I've ever approved of and wanted around. I'll no longer have a chance to feed into the temptation of telling Dave what I feel for him. It's a temptation and a fear and excites me just as much as it terrifies me, paralyzes me just thinking of the outcome, especially when I know I won't get my feelings reciprocated. I won't get anything better than a soft rejection from him yet I still want to come clean.

Why, you might be asking - well, it's rather simple, actually. I think he deserves to know how special he's made these last few months. How much he's made me fall in love with this city and the UK as a whole. How much I enjoyed our adventures both on and off the ice. How much fun I had going sightseeing with him as my tour guide.

How much I enjoyed his company and how hard I fell for him in the process.

Today's the last day of 'class' for the both of us but I just so happen to be the only one who's aware of it. Yeah, I've been one hell of a coward and never brought up my inevitable departure despite having been informed over a week ago. Exactly, I had a week to come clean about more things than one, but I chose silence.

And boy did that bad decision come to hit me against the back of the head like a boomerang. A mocking and particularly painful one at that.

Get it together, Y/N. One of these news you'll have to tell him, he has to know you're leaving. And the other...

"Sorry I'm late!" The familiar voice coming in a breathy yell from somewhere in the darkness surrounding the seats awakens me and frees me from my mind's battle with itself. "The rain only makes traffic worse."

Now or never. Don't drag it out and keep adding salt to the wound!

"I'm leaving!" I say, loud enough to be heard clearly despite our distance. Also loud enough to cover up the tremble in my voice. It took a lot of power just to say that one sentence, I wonder how I'm gonna power through having to explain it to him.

"Jeez, did I upset you that badly?" Dave surprises the hell out of me when he steps on the ice, already in his skates which I didn't even notice him put on. I'm not surprised by that to be honest, I'm too caught up in my own thoughts and how I'm displaying them in my demeanor to notice my surroundings.

"N-no, I..." so much for covering up that tremble in my voice, "I have to leave the UK...tomorrow...I'm going back home for a competition and to, you know, get ready for the Olympics...I don't know when or if I'll be back but I was hoping..."

"What? When'd you hear about this? Why so suddenly? Is it that big of an emergency that they inform you literally five minutes in advance?" There are enough emotions in his voice to prevent me from looking at his face, especially his eyes. I'm afraid of what kind of hurt or whatever other emotion I might see there.

I bite the inside of my cheek, "My trainer told me last week...", I admit, gritting my teeth and cringing as my stomach ties itself is several knots that are causing me great discomfort.

There's a pause which I'm assuming is meant for him to collect all his thoughts and properly process them. I'm afraid of what he'll say when he does.

"So I'm the one finding out five minutes before your departure?" He finally asks, the tone of voice he uses making my heart sink a little.

Damn it, Dave I already feel guilty enough, this is unnecessary!

No, no, he has a point and has every right to be upset. Friends don't keep friends in the dark about things like this. About any things really.

Then why do you keep him in the dark about literally EVERYTHING?

This is what I was afraid of - getting the temptation of coming clean. I have nothing to lose after all, I'm leaving tomorrow anyway. I'll lose him one way or another.

"Listen, Dave...", I didn't think this through but I'll improvise it, that's a better option than shutting my mouth and not saying another word, "I was gonna tell you, I really wanted to, but I couldn't...I couldn't bring myself to do it. I still don't want to believe that I'm leaving. I love it here and just the thought of leaving it all behind...it hurts, you know. And 'the more people know the realer it is' is a real thing so I didn't want...." I stop, my voice cutting off completely as I find myself weak on balance. Maybe standing in the middle of an ice rink isn't the best setting for this conversation. "I'm being ridiculous and I'm stalling like a coward." I say that more to myself than to him but I don't let him speak. Instead, I continue my rambling after a brief sigh.

Dave, God bless his soul, stays silent and just looks at me with this curious gaze which is letting me know he's holding back for my sanity's sake, allowing me to take a breather and collect my thoughts before I express them to avoid misunderstanding me.

I inhale, finally ready to start talking, "Alright, here we go...Look, I don't want to end this...friendship between us on a bad note but I don't want it to end with there still being secrets between us so I'm gonna finally say what I've been wanting and not wanting to tell you for a while now. It's on you whether it'll be a bad ending to a good story or not, but I just need to get it off my chest, ok?"

He nods, not at all as hesitantly as I thought he would which is relieving to see, so I continue.

"This is gonna sound pathetic and downright laughable but here it goes - I like you, Dave. The kind of like where I see you as more than a friend and sometimes even wish you would see me the same way as well despite being sure you don't. And please, if you plan on pulling a pity act give me a heads up so I can just walk aw-"

My ramble is put to an end when Dave puts his hand up, pointer finger in the air and almost touching my lips as a gesture to shush me. I am typically one of the hardest people to shut up EVER, but now the words die down on their own as if they are even happy to be put to rest at his request.

"Y/N you are the most talented, most graceful, the kindest and most beautiful and smartest person I have ever met and yet you still also happen to be the densest and most ignorant when it comes to the people around you. You're a people pleaser, I've figured out as much, but goddamn it, you rarely know what a person actually wants. I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, this could just be the case with me and an inability to show emotion which I haven't known about all this time, but still - if your dense ass hasn't noticed it yet I'll say it out loud for you and if you still find a way to misinterpret it, I'll spell it out for you in huge neon letters, got it?" He makes something barely alike a pause before sighing, "Y/N L/N, the most densest person in this whole word, you've had me star-struck since day one and I've only been falling deeper and harder in love with you ever since. And you don't have even the slightest clue of what happened to me and my heart a couple minutes ago when you said you were leaving. Believe what you wanna, but words have never crushed me harder ever before and trust me, that says a lot. So, before you go and think you have my emotions figured out, remember that I actually know how to skate."

That's A LOT to take in. It's got layers upon layers of questions followed by answers followed by even more questions that I'm not sure I'm prepared to ask or answer.

So he's liked me since the day we met? Love at first sight? Nah, that shit only exists in movies.

He was hurt by that? I hurt him by not telling him then I hurt him by telling him and I'll hurt him the hardest when I leave tomorrow. How am I supposed to not feel responsible for putting so much pain on him without even realizing it?

And wait - he knows how to skate???

"You can skate? Like, you can can skate? Like, you're not a hopeless case like you've made me believe?" I ask, one of my eyebrows shooting up suspiciously.

Dave goes from looking puzzled to cracking up with laughter within a second after hearing my question, "Oh Y/N, you're so adorable. That's what's got you puzzled the most out of all I just said?"

I narrow my eyes at him, folding my arms over my chest defensively, "Well the rest seems pretty cut-and-dry, if you ask me." I say sarcastically, earning another laugh from him.

It's only now that I notice how confidently he's standing on the ice - as though he's standing on solid, non-slippery ground which is far from the image I have of Dave while on ice. The uncertainty, the lack of stability, it's all disappeared from his still demeanor which now makes a lot more sense.

He smirks at me, "Does it now, densey?"

I frown at the nickname, "Don't call me th-"

He doesn't let me finish, instead presses his lips against mine, the contact making me lose balance on my skates. Luckily, he probably calculated this risk in advance cause his arms wrap around me instantly, preventing me from slipping more than an inch.

"Who needs to be held up now?" He asks, pressing his forehead against mine when we pull away from the kiss.

I keep my eyes closed despite the urge to roll them in playful annoyance, "Oh, shut it."

And he does so by pressing his lips against mine once again.

What will happen once I leave, I have not the slightest clue. Hell, I don't even know what'll happen when we pull away permanently and get off the ice we're standing on. But I do know what's happening right now - I'm kissing Dave Brown and nothing's ever felt this right before.

@waterlilypat @iwillboilyourteeth @insanedeathwish @onceuponadie @loraleiix @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @goldenstarofthunderclan @cosmicstorm19 @lam-ila @sra-verissimo @marthebeeduosimp

[whump-town]

Halloween

Right after 5x01 with Reid and Hotch both pulling away, Morgan and Emily take matters into their own hands. 

“I don’t want to.”

Morgan, who up until that point, had really, truly believed that the worst of his year was behind him closes his eyes with a tired sigh. As if the pig farm hadn’t felt suffocating on its own, now it’s tangled in his mind with Foyet. The pigs, Mason, that poor girl, and Hotch. Because that terrible night hadn’t ended for Hotch as it had for the rest of them. They slept while Hotch lay on his apartment floor, his own blood soaking into his clothes. The hospital hadn’t even washed the dried blood from his hair by the time the team arrived.

Emily had the next day. It had taken Derek and Emily both to do the seemingly mindless task. Hotch had been uncomfortable, dirty and the nurses had given them the leeway to tackle the task together. And they were both very aware of how annoyed he was to have to succumb to their help. Hotch can hardly raise his arms to his waist, he wasn’t going to be washing his one hair. And as the oldest of his own siblings and still leaning heavily into that protective mindset, Morgan would heavily prefer it to be him there. So, bracing Hotch’s side with his own body, Derek had held Hotch upright while Emily gently scrubbed his hair clean of his blood.

The scent thick and acidic but slowly replaced with a smell distinctly hospital-like. The water had browned, the suds too dirty to even help only about halfway through. Standing there, Hotch’s body growing heavier and shaking gently against Morgan’s ribs he could see every bone in his boss’s back. And, too soon, they had to call it quiets. The monitors were picking up, distraught with the pain Hotch had hidden so well. His heart missing beats as Morgan had eased his head back into the pillows.

Emily standing there, white as a ghost, with that bucket of water. Hotch was only half-aware of them and their intentions by then. Watching Morgan behind half-lidded eyes and lips pale and parted as he took a dry rag through his hair. Morgan’s mother had always told him that going out in the cold with wet hair would give you pneumonia and while he had never known anyone to get pneumonia like that he wasn’t going to take any chances. Even if they were in a temperature-controlled hospital room.

And through all of that, Hotch had made it. Slowly, through shrieking monitors and more than one scare, alive. A fucking miracle.

“What do you mean you don’t want to go?” It’s Halloween. For as long as Morgan has known Reid, it’s been his favorite holiday. Hell, everyone knows it’s his favorite holiday. Even Hotch gets a little festive in the name of bringing even the faintest smile to Reid’s face. The idea for today, a party to celebrate Halloween, had been done with Reid specifically in mind. Being cooped up in this apartment isn’t good for him.

Reid who hasn’t actually looked at Morgan since he came in, twirls the frayed ends of his blanket around his finger. “I don’t want to,” he repeats. It’s one thing to mop about in this apartment. Here, no one watches him struggle to move. No one looks too hard, too long at his ill-practiced steps. At the crutches tucked under his scrawny arms. Worse is that if he goes, he can’t take his crutches. He’ll have to the stupid wheelchair in his room. Whos open seat is a crookedly carved leather smile, taunting him.

Morgan shakes his head and keeps at his current project. For the past week (has it been a week? He isn’t certain) he’s done nothing but tidies up every space around him. Having attacked Hotch’s apartment-- tearing up that blood-stained carpet, patching the hole in the wall, fixing a leaky faucet in the guest room, and cleaning out his worryingly empty fridge-- he’s come to Reid’s. The thing is Reid is going to make this process a little harder. There are bits and pieces of Reid in every corner of his apartment. Not self-deprecatingly bare like Hotch’s. Here, he can’t disrupt the way books lie because they all have been sectioned and left where they are with purpose. There is a purpose to his chaos more meaningful than Hotch’s out of sight out of mind.

“Well, you have to go.”

Reid frowns, biting his lip to refrain from whining. Despite having done more by his current twenty-four-years of age than any of them, they still treat him like a child. And while any of them might be forgiven for a bit of childish refusal he won’t be. Well, in all fairness, he is prone to a bit more childish things than they are. Reid had to be forced to go to the doctor’s for a check-up after getting anthrax and all because he had thought they might ask to do blood tests. What had made him go, in the end? Morgan taking Reid himself. It was humiliating but when they draw blood Morgan had offered his hand and Reid had taken it.

Now, Morgan’s just asking for a favor. For Reid to suck it up, just this once. To have fun and be easy. “Hotch is only coming because he’s under the impression this is all for you.” And it is, all for Reid. None of them care about Halloween. Hotch least of all. But the two of them are going to go crazy cooped up on their own.

Of course, that’s only mostly true.

It’s entirely Morgan and Emily’s idea.

“Okay,” Reid sighs, scratching self-conscious at his scalp. “I just…” he shoves the blankets off his legs. “Just need a few minutes.” A shower. He needs a shower and, if he’s granted the time for it, a pity nap.

Morgan hums, head bent to his current task of cleaning Reid’s strangely large collection of mugs lining his counter. “As long as you need,” he mumbles.

Two years ago, if someone sat David Rossi down and told him that on a Saturday in October he’d be celebrating Halloween as a fully grown man... he wouldn’t believe them. Add in the fact that he would be doing this because it’s a twenty-something-year-old genius’s favorite holiday and he’s doing it to lighten the mood of his old prodigy… well, he’d consider himself senile.

He should have stayed retired.

As of the last month, he’s been thinking that a lot. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the little ragtag team Aaron’s created in his absence but they're a little crazy and trouble magnets-- Emily and Reid attempt at a second Waco with Benjamin Cyrus, the bombing in New York, and George Foyet. All within the span of a year. He’s only heard about some of the other things they did before he came back.

These freaking kids are crazy.

“Will you just listen to me,” Dave is multi-tasking. Aside from picking out comfortable clothes for the evening he also has got to swindle Hotch into coming out to the party. “For once in your life, Aaron, just listen to me.” As dramatic as that may sound, it’s kind of fair. Even when they prodigy and mentor, Aaron had a flair for taking Dave’s instructions in one ear and out the other.

“Dave,” comes Aaron’s soft rebuttal. He’s exhausted. Much to his chagrin, three days rest has done nothing to mend the bone-tired ache in his body. Add the depression he can feel settling across his sternum and the way his ribs feel like they’re being pried open… He has no interest in watching his team get drunk at Dave’s house. Call him a buzzkill or a killjoy to heart’s content, that’s not going to change his mind.

Besides, the last thing he needs is to start himself into a bad habit of drinking every time he’s sad. Then what? He starts himself down a road of addiction. He comes to work drunk. Derek tries to say something. Dave is worried. He gets fired. He’s no better than his own father.

Rossi’s voice softens, any of the agitation previously in his voice is gone. “Aaron,” he calls through the speaker. “I’m not asking. Emily’s on her way right now to come to get you.” He sighs under his breath, just tired, not even mad. “You can make that hard for her,” Dave offers, knowing that’s what Hoch is going to be inclined to do. “I think we both know she deserves a break from that, though.”

Hotch feels the defeat pull his shoulders down. He’s been an asshole lately. Logically, he knows it’s a progression of all the emotions he’s feeling and burying. Emily doesn’t hate him for that but he knows she’s starting to feel overwhelmed by it. And given how successful his other attempts at pushing everyone else away has been, he might just owe her a little reprieve. To do this one thing without an entire battle.

“I’ll… I’ll be there.”

Dave smiles on the other side of the line, content with himself. “Thank you, Aaron. I will see you there, kiddo.”

It’s always the smartest people that fall for the simplest tricks.

Unlike Derek, Emily does feel bad about their plan. Logically, she’s very aware of how beneficial it’s going to be. If they don’t invite themselves over, Reid won’t ask anyone to come. Which means that he’s got to be getting his meals some other way. The thing is, if he were getting them delivered by a friend unknown to his team members, there should be something left over. Food in his fridge or trash in his garbage can. But there’s nothing.

Why does love have to be so difficult? How is it that some people understand it and others are stunningly unaware? Somehow wrapping their pretty little heads around this idea that they are undeserving or tricksters for having tricked someone into caring about them. If they didn’t love Reid would they feverishly watch over him? Did he really consider himself that sinister? That malicious? That he could trick profilers into loving him? Let it be clear, there is no trick. They are not so foolish and he not so unlovable.

“Derek, I think we might--”

Reid’s wobbly. He’s not yet mastered the crutches (at all). His practice comes only from the hospital and then his instructions had been brief before he was sent down the hall. A nurse just needing to see he could maneuver them and that they were at the right height. So, as bitter as he is to admit it, Derek’s lightly placed hand on the small of his back is very helpful.

Turning to see Emily, Reid lurches dangerous and Morgan moves quickly to stop him from falling. Just behind them, SUV pulled up onto Rossi’s lawn as close as she could pull it up, Emily is helping Hotch out of the car. Even from here, he can hear the lowered grumbling shared between the two. Despite being unable to see Hotch except for one brief moment, Reid’s glad to at least hear the other man. Him and Emily clipping rough comments back and forth. Bordering on rude but it’s between them and they’ve always let one another slide in these areas.

Vaguely he can piece together that they’re arguing about whether or not Morgan’s help is needed. “--wheelchair, that you made me leave-- I will take you back-- walker-- asshole!” Despite how angrily they nip back and forth, it’s all in what they don’t say. Hotch falls into Emily’s guiding step. Not even breaking from his own comment as her hand comes around his hips and effortlessly supports his weight as they take a step up. Neither taking the blow below the belt to note how Hotch’s words get cut off by a hardly contained whimper of pain or how choked his quick, distressed breathing becomes.

Morgan’s help is needed but Emily is too focused on keeping Hotch’s feet firmly planted on the ground and Hotch too worried about not busting his ass on the ice.

Reid jerks as Dave’s front door is thrown open. One hand on his hip, an apron over his chest, he shakes his head at the sight of the four of them. “I can hear you two arguing like children from in the house!” he shouts. He steps out onto the porch, tucking the towel in his hand into his pants. “Grown adults out here acting like children!” There is an unmistakable David Rossi laced fondness in his tone. That, despite his haste movements and dry frown, is taken as such because they know him. And he knows Hotch and Emily well enough to know this would happen.

“Get yourselves inside,” Rossi’s entire body changes when he sees Morgan and Reid. A simple passing hand down Morgan’s back for encouragement. “There’s root beer in the bottom drawer in the fridge, have Henry get you one!”

Reid smiles, suddenly excited for this afternoon. Root beer is… it’s the keystone of his childhood. There was not a matter he and his mother couldn’t handle with a little root beer. And while he doesn’t indulge himself often with that luxury (still some part of his brain fails to comprehend that he has the money to get it) Dave always has it. Hearing that Henry is here, implying Will and JJ too, he feels himself growing giddy. Pleased. He can’t wait to talk to them. For Will to hit his shoulder with his fist just a little too hard and to rustle his hair. JJ hovering and laughing. Henry. Smiling laughing.

Dave keeps going.

His frowning turning into a small while Hotch’s dark eyes find him, a glint of hope. “Our poor hero,” Dave greets in a half-jab at Hotch. He cups the younger man’s cheek, smiling at him. “I assume Emily has been her cruel and unusual self?” Once again, another jab. It’s a perfect balance. He neither takes Emily’s side (exhausted by Hotch’s antics) nor Hotch’s (exhausted by Emily’s antics).

They both scoff, at both implications.

“Hotch is being an asshole,” Emily grumbles, childishly sticking her tongue out at him. “Per his usual self.”

Hotch turns to Dave and returns, “to answer your question, yes she is.”

Wedged between Dave and Emily, Hotch makes it to the porch. Emily only hits him once. Once. He deserved it.

“Would you two behave?”

They get all of two steps in before JJ puts a stop to it. You see, no one ever listens to Dave. Not once has anyone ever listened to Hotch but JJ. No, to JJ, they always listen. And with a slow final few blows, Hotch and Emily stop bickering.

“Now,” JJ has flour on her chest. An honor which means Rossi has let her within his kitchen. “Go sit,” she points to the living room, stepping aside to let them through. “Behave yourselves or I’m not letting you eat until you hug and tell each other you love one another.” Her grandmother used to force that punishment on JJ and her sister as children. Cruel, she had thought then, but JJ has learned it to be very useful. As they pass, she hears them both grumble something about Hotch’s mostly liquid diet and how Emily doesn’t think that’s very fair. JJ throws her own towel at their heads. It’s well worth the shared smirk of mischief shared between Hotch and Emily.

Little deviants, she thinks with an eye roll. It’s Halloween so she lets it slide.

In the living room, Reid and Hotch are left while the others fight over one another in the kitchen. The clatter is heard through the whole house. Morgan making Garcia laugh, a barking sound that draws a smile from Reid. Joyous. Emily lightly teasing Rossi for what she teases is new greying in his hair. She asks if he’d like her to dye it for him the next time he gets his hair colored. Her triumphant laughter is just as freeing. 

“Hotch?”

Beaten by the effort it took to walk all the way to the living room, Hotch had mostly succumbed to his placement on in the lazyboy. A chair, in which, he had never sat once in all the years he’d visited Dave’s. But the recliner is large and he can easily lean to support his side. Keeping an arm wrapped around his aching side. Without opening his eyes, head tilted back he hums. “Yeah?”

Reid’s knee is carefully surrounded by pillows. Even if it’s jostled, it’s fully supported in every direction. He’d been sitting here, watching Hotch’s face steadily grow blank. Masking his pain. He’d wanted to know if Hotch too had been tricked into coming. But then, as Morgan, followed closely by Garcia and the others, step in and Reid finds he doesn’t actually need to know. Hotch came, didn’t he? Left the safety of his dark apartment in favor of their boisterous company. Of little Henry in his Spiderman costume and Garcia and her own elaborate Harry Potter costume. 

Derek hands Reid a plate, mostly finger foods a bit of pasta. His plate mirrors Henry’s. While the other’s all eat healthy amounts of pasta. Will sneaks him a napkin, which confuses him, until Will covers his hand over Reid’s and whispers “there are eight Oreos in this napkin”. Sweets, which JJ and Garcia had deprived him until he cleaned his plate. And when JJ caves, Reid’s stomach full of the carrots, crackers, and grapes his plate had primarily had (as well as those Oreos), and brings him a slice of pie and ice cream Will only shakes his head with a smirk.

Hotch manages a few spoonful's of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup. 

“You could eat something else,” Dave ventures, scowling. But Hotch’s body is very displeased and what little solid food he’d managed to eat in the last few days was having a tendency to come right back up. Abdominal trauma, the doctor’s kept informing them, often caused this. They just needed to wait it out. 

“He’s got the palate of a toddler,” Emily mumbles but she means it fondly. She punctuates it by throwing a carrot at his head. He doesn’t have the dexterity to swat it out of the air so it hits his head and he just scowls at her. 

Reid sides with Hotch. “Chicken noodle soup is the best soup,” he offers in Hotch’s defense. Blushing when Hotch just looks sadly at him, as if broken by the idea that Reid is the only person left to defend him. 

“It is,” Garcia tries to add, helpfully. She smiles encouragingly to Hotch but once again he takes them siding with him poorly. If all the sympathy he can garner is from Reid and Garcia, he’s hopeless. He loves them dearly but they effortlessly take his side. “And you leave my boss man alone! If he wants to eat chicken noodle soup then you let him.”

Hotch hums to that, quirking an eyebrow at Garcia, and looking down at Emily. Of all the places for her to sit, she’d chosen the floor. With a whole floor to choose from, she still sat down right at his feet. Resting her back against his shins. Which he didn’t mind but he knew she’d done it just to annoy him. 

Henry grows tired of his adult company and with the sun falling, he knows what’s coming. Even at three, he’s aware of what he’s supposed to be doing.

“Go on,” Hotch encourages. He knows they’re only holding back for two reasons: Reid and him. But Henry shouldn’t suffer just because he managed to piss off the one Unsub brave enough to attack him and Reid unfortunate enough to get shot. “We won’t go anywhere. I’ll put on Doctor Who,” he bargains. “Reid won’t go anywhere.” But it’s not really Reid they’re worried about. “I’ll take a nap,” he offers. Which is what his body needs but he’s not so sure he’ll actually commit to that. 

“Don’t move.” Emily orders.

“I’ll make sure he stays put,” Reid says, with a nod. But given how stupid they both are, Emily loves the commitment but doesn’t take the offer too seriously. Hotch with a blanket tucked over his legs and Reid happily humming away to the Doctor Who theme song, they’re left to the silence of Dave’s house. The others out taking Henry around the block for some trick or treating. 

Hotch does take that nap and Reid contently gets sucked into Doctor Who. Content in ways they both thought were only possible locked away in their own misery. 

[hxbbit]

Playing With Fire (Rafael Casal x Reader)

Words: ~6.4k

Warnings: Pure, unadulterated filth. bdsm themes (dom!rafa), swearing, alcohol

Summary: While attending a wedding, you decided to tease Rafael a little too much. And he decides you need to be punished because of it.

I don’t know what happened, and how it happened, but it’s here. And I’m so excited and I hope you like it, too. Special thanks to @braidedchallah​ for making me write this and hyping me up lmao

“Can you zip me up?” You asked as you walked towards the bathroom, holding up your dress with your hands. Rafael was standing in front of the mirror, perfecting his hair.

“Sure,” he said and you turned your back towards him and he quickly pulled up the zipper. He leaned down to place a kiss on your shoulder and then turned you back around to look at him.

Fuck, you only thought. Obviously Rafa looked good in everything he wore, but today he looked especially hot. He wore that suit with the black and white patterned jacket and the solid black lapels and black dress pants. He added his thick gold chain under the collar of his white shirt, so it mostly just peaked out in the middle as well as wearing gold rings on both his pinky fingers. The hair that had grown out a bit was carefully styled back in a pretty sleek look and his beard was trimmed to perfection.

“Like what you’re seeing?” He asked cockily with a grin, obviously noticing your staring.

“Definitely, my boyfriend is hot as hell,” you said, stepping closer and running your hand over his chest.

“Yeah? Well, my girlfriend is pretty hot, too,” he replied, leaning down to kiss you slowly, his hands moving to squeeze your ass.

“I want you to fuck me tonight while you’re wearing that suit,” you whispered against his lips and then kissed him again.

“Oh, I think that can be arranged,” he whispered back, pinching your butt cheek, making you jump with a squeak and then you let out a giggle.

“We have to leave now, though or otherwise we’ll be late for the ceremony.” Rafa ushered you out of the bathroom and you both got ready to leave.

The uber was already waiting outside when you stepped out of Rafael’s place. You would both be drinking tonight, so you decided not to drive yourselves.

You both got into the car, making sure you had the gift and everything else you needed with you and then you were being driven to the location of Anthony and Jasmine’s wedding.

There was already a big crowd of people when you arrived, a lot of them you knew, since you had a lot of mutual friends, but some were family or friends of theirs you weren’t familiar with. You looked around, everything was decorated so beautifully with white flowers and great attention to detail. At the front there was an arch where the bride and groom would stand when the ceremony was held and then countless rows of chairs in the grass for all the guests.

Almost immediately you also spotted Daveed, chatting to some people. You knew that Emmy was a bridesmaid, so she was probably off helping Jaz get ready.

You dropped off the present on the table with all the others and then Rafa and you made a beeline towards Daveed.

Diggs wore a dark purple checkered suit, it was relatively tame compared to what he usually wore, probably not wanting to draw too much attention, but still enough to stand out between the other simple black suits.

“Yo, Diggs,” Rafael shouted at him before he reached him, a big boyish grin on his face, making him turn around and then they hugged each other. You knew that they hadn’t seen one other in a while, Daveed having been off filming the second season of Snowpiercer, so they had a lot of catching up to do.

“Hey, Y/N! How’s it going,” Daveed then turned to you, hugging you tightly as well.

“It’s going well,” you smiled brightly at him. “How’s shooting going?”

“We’re a little behind, but it’s gonna be good.”

You were about to say something else when a woman at the front by the arch asked all of the guests to please take a seat.

The ceremony was absolutely beautiful and made you tear up a bit and when Rafa saw that you had tears in your eyes, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in close to his side, kissing the top of your head.

And once it was over, the celebration began. And oh, what a party it was. The people were only really seated when the food was served, otherwise they were dancing and drinking, celebrating the newlyweds.

You also had a couple of glasses of champagne. You wanted to dance but Rafa was busy talking to Daveed. You talked to some other people and danced with some of the girls you knew, but you wanted to dance with Rafa. Craving attention, you were sitting down next to him as he was still chatting to Daveed and you couldn’t help but place your hand on his thigh, rubbing your thumb back and forth slightly. But he didn’t react to that in the slightest, used to your casual affection, so instead you slid your hand further up his thigh, straddling the line of indecent hand placement, yet still no reaction. You went up a tiny bit further. That’s when his hand suddenly, yet subtly, grabbed your hand, holding it in place as he kept on talking to Diggs as if nothing was happening.

A few minutes later, Diggs excused himself, Emmy wanting to dance with him, when Rafa turned towards you. A dangerous glint in his eye.

“Behave,” he only said and that single word alone stirred something inside of you.

“Dance with me,” you then whined and he finally indulged you, pulling you up and dragging you to the dance floor where he spun your around for a few songs.

After a couple of dances, a slow song was played and Rafa pulled you close against his chest. You had a smile on your face as you swayed back and forth together and having him so close to you in that moment made all sorts of thoughts run through your head. You moved so your lips were right against his ear.

“I want you so bad right now,” you whispered quietly, so no one would hear you.

“How about we find a secluded little corner and you can make good on your promise a little early? I mean, why wait until we’re back at home again?” You said with a mischievous grin on your lips. You could hear a soft groan come from Rafael and you could swear that you already felt his semi-hard cock press against you, the thought of ravaging you in public turning him on.

“They’re about to do the speeches,” he replied, not giving you the answer you wanted.

“So what?” You asked back, now pressing a kiss to his neck, right underneath his ear and then also nibbling on it a little, Rafa letting out a heavy breath.

“So you know I have to be here because Jaz asked me to say a few words.”

You obviously knew that Rafa had prepared to say something, but that didn’t mean that you were going to make it easy on him.

“If that’s the case, then I’d better find myself someone else to entertain me during all of the boring speeches,” you moved back a bit so Rafa could look at you as you said that, seeing the teasing and provocative look in your eyes as you raised one brow at him.

“If you’d rather be ‘entertained’ by someone than be satisfied by me then go right ahead, baby. But we both know that no one else can give you what I give you,” he said with a cocky tone to his voice and while you knew that he was right, you were still up for the challenge.

The game was on. You got a special kind of satisfaction from teasing Rafael, trying to push his buttons, because you knew that what came after, was always mind blowing - for both of you. You both also knew that it was all in good fun and you weren’t actually trying to make him jealous for nefarious reasons.

So once the dance was over and you were sitting back down at the table with all the others, because the speeches were about to start, you let your eyes wander over the crowd, looking for a potential candidate to get close to. You saw an objectively attractive guy sit at one of the tables that was mostly just old friends of Anthony’s that you didn’t know. Which was perfect. That way he didn’t know you or Rafa or that you were together.

You waited until the speeches were over, obviously you wanted to hear what Rafa had written and how he made the crowd laugh, but afterwards you got up and moved through the room. Rafa spotted you and you only gave him a wink, before you made your way over to the guy that you had set your eyes on perviously. And once you reached him, you didn’t hesitate chatting him up, starting a friendly and flirty conversation. You felt a little sorry for him, only being a pawn in yours and Rafa’s game, but you didn’t feel quite sorry enough to stop.

Ben, you learned, was and old college friend of Anthony’s and on top of that quite receptive to your advances.

You went to the bar together, got some drinks and then chatted. You glanced over to where Rafa was standing and talking to some people but you saw that his eyes were on you. You made sure to touch Ben a little, only a hand on his arm or chest, nothing too much. But when he then got a little more comfortable and put one hand on your waist, moving closer towards you, Rafael was suddenly next to you.

“Hey, baby, there you are,” he said and Ben immediately retracted his hand from your body, stepping back and Rafa didn’t even look at him, instead he leaned down to kiss you, pulling you close to him, making sure that the other guy knew that you were his.

And oh, possessive Rafa always turned you on.

“I should get back to the others,” Ben then spoke quietly and quickly disappeared, obviously having understood the very obvious hint.

“You’re playing with fire,” he said, kissing you again.

“I know, but don’t pretend like you’re not loving it,” you said in return, pecking him on the lips once more.

The rest of the night was spent dancing, laughing and drinking and eventually you and Rafa both decided to head home. You said your goodbyes to everyone. By now you had taken off your high heels, feet aching, carrying them in your hands to the uber you had ordered, holding Rafa’s hand in the other. And when you got into the car, you leaned your head against his shoulder, still holding his hand until you arrived back at home.

Mia was not at home, you had placed her in the loving care of a friend for the night so she wouldn’t be alone while you were out all day and night, so there was no one to greet you when you came home.

You were barely through the door of your apartment, dropping your shoes by the door, when Rafa turned around, looking at you while he undid the top button of his dress shirt.

“Take off that dress and get on your knees,” he said in a voice that you knew all too well. It was the voice he used when he didn’t want any talk-back or arguments. The voice he used when he wanted you to say ‘Yes, Sir’, ‘Please, Sir’ and ‘Whatever you want, Sir’. And it was the voice that made you immediately wet whenever he used it on you.

While it took you a little by surprise, excitement still rushed through your body as you reached around to your back to undo the zipper of the dress - thank God it was easier to open than zipping it up - before you then proceeded to take it off completely, letting it pool around your ankles on the floor. You took one step forward, one step closer towards him, and then sank down on your knees, only in your matching bra and thong now. Clasping your hands together in your lap, you looked up at him through your lashes with faked innocence, trying to hide your excitement.

But as you looked up Rafa’s body, you could definitely see his excitement, straining against his black slacks. It made your mouth water.

He took two steps, so he was directly in front of you now, you had to lean your head back into your neck to look up at him. The tension in the room and between Rafa and you was electrifying, not knowing what he had planned for you, but knowing that you were going to love it either way.

Rafa placed one of his hands on your cheek, gentle and soft, thumb rubbing over your skin.

“Did you have fun today?” He asked and at first you were a little taken aback by that question. But it was a nice day and you had a lot of fun, the wedding was beautiful and being with all your friends and Rafa made you very happy.

“Yes, Sir,” you then replied with a little nod.

“Well, I hope it was worth it, because I’m gonna have to punish you now.” Rafa moved his hand slightly so it was under your chin, running his thumb along your bottom lip.

“See, I was going to take you home tonight and fuck you nice and well, just like you asked me to, make you cum at least three times until you screamed out my name… But you had to be an impatient little brat. Teasing me, trying to make me jealous. You know I need to punish your for that,” he said and he almost looked sympathetic, as if he didn’t really want to punish you, but you both knew that that was not the case. Rafa was going to enjoy punishing you very, very much.

Rafa’s thumb was still on your lip and you couldn’t help but dart your tongue out to give the pad of it a little lick, wanting to taste him.

“Oh, that’s how you wanna play it?” He asked with a scoff, pushing his thumb past your lips and pressing down on your tongue slightly. You immediately started sucking on it, hollowing your cheeks and letting your tongue swirl around his digit.

“God, look at you, you’re such a little slut.” He let you continue to suck on his thumb like that as if it were his cock.

“I was only going to spank your ass until it’s red and raw, but now I’m thinking I’m going to have to fuck that pretty little mouth first, make you gag on my cock and have you swallow all of my cum,” Rafa mused and you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, the prospect of having him fuck your face made heat spread throughout all of your body.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth and then opened the button and zipper of his pants as you watched him intently and once he had freed his member from his boxer briefs, you licked your lips almost unintentionally. He held his hard and thick cock in his hand and guided it towards your mouth, rubbing the head over your spit-slick lips that also still had remnants of your lipstick on it. You raised your hands to reach for it, wanting to wrap your fingers around him, when Rafa suddenly pulled back a little.

“No hands. I get to decide how hard and deep I fuck your mouth. Disobedient little brats like you don’t get to have a say in that,” he said before he put his tip back to your lips. “Now open that mouth for me.”

You did as you were told, opening your mouth and letting him slide in, loving the taste of him and the feel of the velvety skin on your tongue. One of his hands moved to the back of your head, gathering your hair, holding you steady for now as he slowly started thrusting into you. He started out slow at first, letting you move your tongue around his cock just as you had done minutes ago to his thumb. Then he pushed in deep once, agonizingly slow, making you feel every inch of him as he slid down your throat. It almost made you gag, but you managed to relax your throat and take him deeper, swallowing him down until he was completely inside of you, the tip of your nose touching his pelvis.

“Just like that,” he breathed out, suppressing a moan as he pushed you down just a little bit further. “Put your whore mouth to good use for once.”

You tried pushing your luck a little by moaning around him, it was obviously stifled by his cock, but you knew that he would feel the vibrations of it. And the moan he let out in return told you that he definitely did. He pulled his cock out, letting you breathe again, but only for a second before he slammed back in and this time he set a bruising pace.

The grip in your hair tightened and he grabbed your chin with the other hand and pulled your head against him every time he thrusted into you, making you take him deep with every move and making you stay in place. At this point you couldn’t even really wrap your lips around him anymore as he was just fucking your throat sloppily, gagging, spit starting to drool down your chin and tears were gathering in the corners of your eyes.

Your hands were balled into fists, but still resting on your thighs, wanting so badly to touch him, but wanting to be good for him and obey his orders.

By now, the tears were rolling over your cheeks freely, not only from the way he fucked your face but also from the frustration of wanting to touch him, letting out a whine as he kept on thrusting into your mouth.

“I’m gonna cum,” he panted between heavy breaths and moans.

“I want you to swallow every drop of my cum,” he said, stilling for a second as he was deep inside you, so you could hum your agreement.

“Gonna put my cock so far down your throat and make you swallow it, if you want to or not,” he continued, as he kept on moving again, a slower pace, but each thrust deep and forceful, making you gag around him some more. You wanted him to cum so bad, wanted to taste it, wanted to feel him cum down your throat, wanting to give him that sweet release.

Rafa thrusted into you once, twice and a third time before he came with a low groan. And just like he promised, he pushed his cock down deep, you took him down as far as you could once more, his hand moving down your throat to feel himself inside of you and then he released his load, hot ropes of salty cum spurting down your throat, swallowing it all down and starting to feel a little light headed from the lack of oxygen, when he finally pulled back and out of your mouth completely, leaving you breathing heavily.

You finally unclenched your fists and raised one hand to wipe away the spit from your chin, you looked up at Rafa, his chest was heaving and he was looking down at you with a satisfied smile on his lips. His hands found your cheeks and wiped away the tears.

“You did so good for me, baby,” he said, voice soothing and it made you smile, to know that he was happy with you, that you pleased him.

“Thank you, Sir,” you replied, voice a little hoarse.

He tucked himself back into his pants and then helped you up and only in that moment did you realize how bad your knees hurt from kneeling on the hard floor. He leaned in to place a kiss on your lips, you tried to deepen it, but Rafa moved back, always leaving you wanting more. Instead he slid one hand between your legs, pushing your panties to the side and letting one probing finger move through your slit, feeling the obvious wetness that had gathered there. You already let out a moan at that, even though he barely even touched you.

“Oh, baby, it’s not a punishment if it turns you on this much.” He almost sounded scolding, with the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips. He obviously enjoyed it and liked how you got off on being used by him like that.

“You know I’m still going to have to spank you, right?” He asked with a sadistic smile on his face, you only nodded.

“And if you’re a good little slut, I might even let you cum.”

Rafa pulled his hand from between your legs.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” he then said, taking your hand and leading you towards it.

Rafa took off the suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, then sitting down at the edge of the bed. You watched as he did all that, and then stood in front of him.

“How many spanks do you think you deserve for the shit you pulled tonight?” He asked, head tilted to the side as his eyes were wandering over your body, taking in your form.

You thought for a second.

“Twenty?” You asked, unsure.

“Twenty?” Rafael scoffed a little. “I was thinking more like thirty. I think that’s more in line of what you deserve,” he explained to you and you only nodded wide eyed, swallowing hard.

“Get on my lap then,” he said and you moved to lay across his lap, the rest of your body resting on the bed. Rafa immediately put a hand on your ass, moving it across your skin, softly.

“What’s your safe word, baby?” He asked, he obviously knew it, but he wanted to make sure that you remembered it and that you would actually use it if you needed to.

“Red,” you replied with a smile, craning your neck to look back at him.

“I want you to thank me for each hit. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes,” you said and that earned you your first spank on your right ass cheek, taking you by surprise and making you jump a little.

“Yes, what?” He asked with a sharpness.

“Yes, Sir.” You said. “And thank you, Sir,” you immediately added.

“I think you need reminding who you belong to. The way you pranced around tonight, like a whore, offering yourself up…” He said before delivering another slap that stung, surely already leaving a red print of his hand on your ass.

“Thank you, Sir,” you quickly said.

“Who do you belong to?” He asked with another slap.

“Thank you. I belong to you, Sir. Only to you,” you whined out desperately from the pain but also from the pleasure. Rafa claiming you as his and you declaring yourself to belong to him always did something to you. It made your heart swell and your insides tighten in the best way possible, making wetness pool between your legs and you were sure you were practically dripping by now.

“That’s right. You’re mine.” Another slap.

Again you thanked him and then he proceeded to spank each cheek multiple times, alternating between them, not adhering to a pattern to keep you on your toes, until the flesh was burning and sensitive and probably glowing bright red. Your hands were fisting the blankets by now, clenching them tightly, needing to hold on to something, something you could focus your pain on.

You didn’t count, having lost track in your lust and pain-riddled haze quite quickly, so when he stopped to spread your legs a little more and his fingers found your dripping core, you assumed that that must have been it, letting out a quiet breath of relief. But then he removed his fingers again and instead brought his flat hand down again in another slap right to your clitoris, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Your clit was swollen and sensitive from arousal and while you wanted to be touched there, it was too much, way too much and way too sudden. Tears started prickling in your eyes, overwhelmed with the sensation and you barely managed to remember to thank him.

“Only three more, baby, you can do it,” he then said, seemingly sensing you teeter on the edge of your limit.

It took all your willpower to keep your legs spread for him. The urge to just clench them closely together to deny him access was strong. But you so desperately wanted to be good for him, wanted to take the punishment you deserved.  

And he delivered those last three slaps one after another, with no break to let you catch your breath and it made you cry out and the tears fell from your eyes.

Still you managed to mutter your thanks on a shaky breath.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you sniffled quietly, trying to hold back sobs.

That’s when Rafa pulled you up and against him, making you straddle his lap, holding you close.

“It’s over. It’s over, baby, you were so good, so perfect for me,” he whispered soothingly into your ear. His hands moved down to your butt to rub over the reddened, burning skin most gently with his hands.

“I love you,” Rafa muttered, placing a kiss into your hair.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, voice still a little shaky, but becoming more steady again. You pulled back from him slightly to look at him and he had a look of pure adoration on his face. You gave him a little smile and then kissed him and Rafa almost immediately licked into your mouth, deepening the kiss, entangling his tongue with yours.

He slowly slid one of his hands from your ass over your hip and down to the front between your legs where he found you still completely soaking wet, pushing your panties to the side once more, he then finally gave you the attention you needed, circling your clit with his fingertips. You were so sensitive, not just from the arousal, but also from his punishment. And right now, his fingers felt like heaven and it had you moaning into his mouth right away.

But you also needed more, wanting to be filled up by him.

“Please, need you inside me,” you said, your lips so close to his they were touching as you spoke. Rafa didn’t hesitate and decided to indulge you by pushing two fingers inside of you, making you sigh out, eyes fluttering shut, giving yourself to the pleasure.

He started pumping his fingers in and out of you, but you needed more and couldn’t sit still and started grinding your hips down on him. You had your hands on his shoulders to keep your balance.

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my fingers,” he said, making you open your eyes again.

“You’re such a little slut.”

“I’m your little slut,” you said with a wicked grin, which pulled a smile from him as well.

He pushed another finger into you and the slight stretch was exactly what you needed, he then also started massaging your clit with his thumb. Those combined sensations made heat build up low in your stomach and a knot of pure pleasure forming.

Your nails started to dig into his crisp white shirt and the skin underneath it, starting to breathe heavier. Rafa used his other hand to pull your bra down to expose your breasts, attaching his mouth to your hard nipples, first one, then other, but giving them the same treatment of biting and pulling and sucking.

“You can cum when I tell you to,” Rafa then said, knowing that you were nearing your climax. He didn’t make it easy on you, though, curling his fingers now so they hit that spot inside of you precisely and perfectly, making your breath hitch.

“Fuck,” you breathed out quietly, knitting your eyebrows together and squeezing your eyes shut as the pleasure grew, trying desperately to hold it back and hold out until Rafa allowed it.

“Look at me, baby,” he said and you opened your eyes again, looking at him.

“I want you to look at me when you cum.”

“Please,” you whined. “Wanna cum. Need to cum,” you begged breathlessly.

“Just a little longer,” he replied with a smirk. He enjoyed this a little too much, seeing you squirm and beg for release. You bit your bottom lip, still riding his fingers though, keeping yourself achingly close to the edge.

“Okay, baby, let go. Cum for me,” he finally gave you permission and you were so grateful because you wouldn’t have been able to hold off any longer. Your orgasm crashing through you, your entire body tensing up as the pleasure moved through your body in waves, toes curling, before you then felt weak and like you were close to falling apart. Your walls clenching around his fingers.

But Rafa didn’t let off, he kept the same pace, fucking you with his fingers and still rubbing your now overly sensitive clit.

“Too much,” you breathed out, but you weren’t quite sure that was true, because while it felt like too much on the surface, below you could feel another orgasm already building, dangerously close to breaking through.

“I promised you at least three orgasms and I intend to keep that promise,” he said, sounding very confident. And he had every right to be confident, because he knew your body, better than yourself sometimes, and he knew that you had some more orgasms in you that he was  fully intending to coax out.

“Come on,” he said. “I know you can do it.”

Rafa started peppering your neck with kisses, from your jaw down, leaving the occasional dark purple mark by nipping and sucking, and once he reached the junction of where your neck met your shoulder, he suddenly bit into the soft flesh hard. And that pain took you by surprise, triggering your orgasm unexpectedly. Making you gasp out and moan while he kept on fingering you, until that second orgasm slowly subsided, too.

His movements slowed down and then he pulled his fingers out of you, making you feel very empty, but also feeling relieved at the short break that gave you time to catch your breath.

You watched him lift the fingers that were just inside you to his mouth and lick them clean, moaning at the taste of you.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he told you once his fingers were clean of your juices.

You leaned in to kiss Rafa, you could taste yourself faintly on his lips and while you kissed, he reached behind your back and opened your bra, making you take it off completely.

You wanted more of him now, too, so your fingers found the little buttons of his shirt and started unbuttoning them and once it was completely open, you pushed it off his shoulders and then let your hands roam over his chest, which was only adorned by his gold necklace now. You broke the kiss to look at his tattoo, fingertips trailing over the letters on his left pectoral. Rafael knew that you had a thing for his tattoos, tracing them with your fingers or your lips any chance you got and this time was no different, placing a kiss on the capital letter I.

“Need to fuck you, babe,” Rafa then whispered and you looked back up at him.

“How do you want me?” You asked, biting your lip. Taking a quick glance between your bodies to see that he was obviously already hard again.

“On all fours.”

You got up from his lap, legs still feeling a little weak from the orgasms, and then you first got rid of your panties before getting onto the bed, positioning yourself in the middle of it, just how Rafa had ordered. He had gotten up from the bed, too and rid himself of the rest of his clothes. You felt the mattress dip when he kneeled on the bed behind of you, his hands finding your ass and smoothing them over the still slightly red and sensitive skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like that. On all fours, ass red, waiting for me to fuck you,” he said as his fingers found your pussy once more.

And when he then replaced his fingers with the tip of his thick cock at your entrance, you were more than ready for him, needing his hard cock inside of you. You wanted to move your hips back, trying to get him to enter you, to get him deeper, but you decided to hold still, even if the anticipation was almost killing you. You knew that Rafa would appreciate it, you behaving.

“Tell me how badly you want my cock?” He said, wanting to hear you beg for it.

“So badly, want you inside me. Want you to fill me up and have you deep inside of me. I want you to fuck me hard, Sir. Please,” you then said, desperation lacing your voice. Having Rafa inside you felt like nothing else. You were addicted to the feeling and right now you were craving your next fix.

“Now, how can I say no to that?”

You didn’t turn around, but you could vividly imagine the smirk that Rafa probably had on his face right now.

Slowly, achingly slow, Rafa sank his hard member inside of you, stretching you slightly, making you sigh out in pleasure. Once he was completely sheathed inside of you, he stopped, before pulling out again almost entirely in the same pace, torturing you with it, teasing you. You just wanted him to fuck you, to pound hard into you, and he knew that.

“Rafa, please,” you whined out, needing more, but suddenly he stilled his movement completely.

“What did you just call me?”

“Sir, sorry! I’m sorry! I just- I just want you to fuck me, please,” you all but begged now.

“Oh, you want to be fucked like the whore you are?” He asked.

“Yes, yes, please,” you replied.

Suddenly you felt his hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you down forcefully against the mattress and then he leaned over you, taking your hands and gathering your wrists together behind your back. That way your cheek and your chest were pressed flush against the bed, no way to hold yourself up anymore.

Rafa liked restraining you like that. Sure he enjoyed tying you up a lot, too, but there was something about holding your hands like that with his own that he especially liked. Having that physical power over you, being the actual thing that holds you down instead of ropes or his belt.

“Act like a whore, get fucked like a whore,” he said as he entered you again with a hard thrust, making you gasp. “But then again, you like that, don’t you?”

“Love it,” you moaned out as he repeated the action.

And then, Rafa just started fucking you. Just how you wanted him to, how you needed him to.

Hard and fast, making you moan and breathe heavily in an instant.

Rafael knew exactly how to fuck you to make you cum from penetration alone and he was doing just that, keeping his rhythm steady and deep and at just the right angle to hit your g-spot on every thrust. It had you on edge in no time, but you knew that you needed to wait, hold on a little longer. And Rafa made you wait, made you bite back and hold back your orgasm as he kept on rutting into you, grip still tight and borderline painful on your wrists.

“I’m close,” he then finally said between heavy breaths.

“Me too,” you said, but you were sure he already knew by the way you tightened around him and how your body tensed up.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock,” he then finally pressed out as he thrusted into you one last time and released himself inside of you. And you came too, when you felt his warm cum deep inside your pussy, as you were clenching around him until you had milked him of every drop, while moans of pure pleasure spilled from your lips.

“Fuck, baby.” Rafa was breathing heavily, letting go of your wrists. You pulled your arms to the front, alleviating the ache in your shoulders from the position he had held you in.

He then also slowly pulled out of you.

“Stay like that, gonna clean you up,” he said, getting up off the bed and walking towards the bathroom. You couldn’t stay like that, though, no energy left to hold yourself up. Instead you moved so you were laying flat on your belly, needing to relax your body.

You could feel the cum slowly dripping out of your pussy, but Rafa was already back again with a wet wash cloth to clean you up. You flinched a little when he moved it through your folds because you were so sensitive, which made him chuckle in return. And once he was done with that, he took out some lotion from the nightstand and rubbed it on your butt, cooling and soothing the skin.

“Thank you,” you mumbled against the bed, a dopey, satisfied smile on your face.

“No, thank you. You were fucking perfect tonight,” he said, laying down next to you and pulling you into him.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, taking one of your wrists into his hands and massaging it slightly.

“So good.” You couldn’t think properly, mind still in a haze from the multiple orgasms, your body limp. All you knew was that you felt good.

“Want me to run you a bath?”

You shook your head at that. It was late. You didn’t know how late exactly, but all you wanted to do now was cuddle and then sleep, so you told him that, snuggling closer into him as he pulled the covers over you both.

“Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky to be with you,” he said softly, before he moved so he could kiss you.

“I ask myself the same thing every day,” you replied, connecting your lips to his  once more before you rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

[that-gt-and-vore-stuffs]

Two Snakes and a Rat

Alrighty! Y’all asked so here’s my QuickFang story!

For those who don’t know the QuickFang AU is an au in which Vore exists. Davey is a mob boss known as QuickFang who is feared by all of Manhattan. This takes place some time into the plot and doesn’t touch on past plot points but they’re there I swear! I can expand if y’all want later. Anyway, here we go!!

Also this is shippy and Jack decides to be....Jack so uh yeah. Have fun!

Vore under the cut :3

——————

“Those fucking idiots.” The words were growled, slowly gaining volume and morphing into a yell as the door slammed against the wall. This was the last straw for him. “First the stunt pulled at the most recent brawl, then those imbeciles getting arrested and almost giving away our location, and then them letting a spy in! Why I ought to put a bullet through their heads the moment they’re shoved through that door.”

“S-sir!” A female voice called, the young woman in question running after the man as he entered the room. At least she wasn’t tripping over a skirt in the suit she had been gifted after having accepted her job as one of the man’s own spies.

“That’s- nevermind.” The man growled, anger barely showing for the first time in hours as he walked to the back of the room. One of the cabinets opened, revealing a multitude of dishes, silverware, and glasses. He grabbed the nearest wine glass and sighed. This. All of this. It was all at risk. All because of those bafoons.

“Ah! Right! Sorry, Boss-Sir.” The young lady corrected as a few more goons as well as a second man with a silver broach that separated him from the rest walked in. She made her way to the side. Standing against the wooden wall, a strand of her bronze hair that pulled itself out of the tight bun it was styled in blowing softly in the breezes made my the movement of the others in the room. Four goons, varying in height and muscle, stood at her sides in the same position as she. Hands together behind their back, standing up straight, with the straightest expression they could manage.

“I’d watch Yer words there, pretty lady.” The man with the silver broach hummed as he closed the door. “The boss doesn’t have the clearest mind while like dis. I’d say keep yer mouth shut.”

“Oh give me a break, Wits,” her boss, the man with the golden broach, growled as he filled his glass with the bitter red liquid from the wine keg he kept on the table behind his desk.

“I’s just sayin’, Mr. QuickFang!” The silver broached man said, hands up in a nonchalant surrender as he paced closer to the desk. “Yer mind, see- it does this thing when You’s is mad. It’s like you’s a bull and all you see is-

The brunette- legal name Marcell, mob name Scarlet- squeaked as her boss whipped around, pointing a blade directly at the throat of his right hand man. Dear god-

“Watch. Your. Mouth. Wits.” QuickFang growled, grip on the blade tightening to the point where his hand began to shake.

“Hey, is that not how I got my name? What about you, Mouth~?” Wits cooed in return, a cocky smile sitting on his face with eyes to match behind his mask.

“I- you fucking ass.” QuickFang grumbled, arm jerking to the side and the knife going flying. A dull thud sounds as the blade sticks itself right in the wall mere centimeters above Marcell’s head, drawing another squeak from her as she stares up at the knife. Oh sweet Jesus.

“I thought you loved that part of me though, baby~” Wits cooed, cupping QuickFang’s cheek in his hand for a second. The mob boss’s eye twitched, a growl forming in his throat.

“I do. You fucking know I do. Right now though I want to tear your vocal chords out with nothing more than a dull, rusty old spoon,” spat the man, slamming a hand on his desk as he took a sip from his wine glass. “Damnit. Where are they?! They were supposed to be here-“ he pulled up his sleeve, checking his watch, “-two minutes ago!”

Just as his sentence finished the door clicked open and in were shoved three men, each with their hands tied behind their backs and their mouths filled with fabric gags. Wits moved around the desk, leaning against the bookcase behind his boss now. His boss in question setting his wine glass down in favor of pulling yet another blade out of his pocket.

“Well well well. Look what we’ve got here~” he cooed, a sick smile spreading to his face. “Two traitors and a pathetic excuse of a spy.” He slammed the blade down into his desk, the metal cutting into the wood enough to make it stick upright.

The three on their knees stared up with wide eyes as the man known as QuickFang circled around his desk to stand over them, glimmering blade in hand. This- oh no. No no no. This is bad.

“Now, give me one damn reason why I shouldn’t gut you three like fish and roast you over an open flame for the next dinner party I host.”

The three on the ground shivered, eyes shaking as they stared up. They couldn’t speak. Oh god they couldn’t speak. They couldn’t give him a reason. He was gonna-

The man in the middle froze, feeling the cold tip of the metal blade press into the nape of his neck. Not enough to cut, but enough to remind him it was there. No. No. Nonono.

“You’re lucky I care about my carpet and floor. Blood is awfully hard to clean, you know,” QuickFang growled, removing the blade favoring to twirl it in his hands as he paced around them yet again. “Though I must do something. Letting you three go would be a death sentence to me and my group here and that’s the last thing I want. One of us has to go though to keep our little secret safe.”

There was a mumble of something under one of the three tied up’s breath. Something that sounded an awful lot like an insult. Something that relit the white hot rage in QuickFang’s core.

“Ah so you have a death wish!” He snapped, whipping around and pressing the blade into the man furthest to the left’s neck, Slicing a thin line. Not deep enough to kill, but enough to leave a little trail of blood dripping down. The crazed look in his eyes was something that would burn into those who saw it’s brains. “Those always make things more fun~! How do we start, hmm?”

Before he could do anything else, Wits rushed in behind his boss, arms wrapping around his waist and face burrowing into the crook of his neck. He breathed softly, feeling the tension in his lover melt away. Taking deep breaths, he cooed, “Good….good boy…..”

“Mmggh….baby….not here..” the taller groaned as he melted in the embrace, “...not now. You gotta- mmgh….wait….”

“Shhhh. I know. My mind is on something else though, darling~” the second in command cooed, gently placing a kiss to his boss/lover’s jawbone. He shot a glare to the five against the wall, a growl in his tone when he spoke. “Out. Now.”

And out they all went, Marcell closing the door behind her.

“What’s with the boss and Wits?” She asked, rushing up beside one of the older goons. Surely he knew.

“Those two have been inseparable since the day Wits joined. He stuck to the boss like glue and became his right hand man soon after.” The goon explained, voice rough. “He was captured once. Taken hostage and put in danger at one of the fights in the square. I’ve never seen the boss so mad. The only time he calmed down was when that boy was back in his arms and spoke to him once more. In short, the boss would end the world for that boy. Don’t cross either.”

“Ah. I see…” Marcell hummed, walking off to the spy’s quarters. Surely there was something for her to do there.

QuickFang groaned softly, lidded eyes looking to his partner. “Jackie….what are you planning?”

“Shhh...you’ll ruin the surprise if ya keep askin’ questions, Dave.” Wits, more commonly known as Jack, cooed, letting go of the boy in his arms. “Now be a good boy and go sit in that throne o’ yer’s, kay? Let Wits handle this~”

Davey groaned, stumbling his way to his chair and falling limp into it. “You’re a man of mystery, Jack Kelly. I’ll never understand how you do it.”

“Do what?” Jack asked, poking another one of the three men on the floor. Well, two now- oh! Only one.

“Make me melt like that. I don’t- mmgh- get it.”

“Heheh oh. That. Well Dave,” Jack cooed, smiling as the third man seemingly disappeared as he tucked them between his arm and his chest. “Telling you would ruin the fun~! Now, from how your belly felt my little baby is hungry. Is that the case? Does my little darling want a nice squirmy meal to fill his tummy~?”

Davey’s eyes locked on the three men in Jack’s hold. Oh. Oh boy. A squirmy meal did sound very very nice. But...he wanted to tease a bit. Just a bit. He looked to Jack with pleading eyes, cocking his head just a little. “Please?”

“Hehehe awe. Look at that~” Jack cooed, setting the three on the desk. Next to them he set the knife, blade glimmering in the light. With a grin he stepped back, hands up again in surrender. “The floor is yours, baby~”

Slowly but surely that same evil grin pulled itself across Davey’s face. Oh yes~ He was quick to grab hold of the knife’s handle again, twirling it for a second before stabbing the blade down in front of the three tinies. His weak state was wiped from his mind, being replaced with the confident, sinister mob boss who had a grip on all of Manhattan known as QuickFang. “And once again the games begin~”

The three tinies on the table felt a shiver shoot up their spines as the knife came slamming down in front of them, narrowly missing one of their feet. Sweet Jesus. What was he getting at?!

A low evil laugh rang in the boy’s throat, the knife being pulled from the table to be placed under one of the tinies chins and tilting it up to face the evil, icy blue eyes of the boy.

“Now now. Why the long face~? I thought you three liked to play risky~” he cooed, twirling the knife in his hand. QuickFang’s eyes burned holes in the three on the table. Oh how stupid they had been to have pulled this stunt. “I’m not gonna….pull anything~”

At his own words, Davey promptly grabbed one of the tinies by their bound hands. He brought them to eye level, stomach growling as he stared them down. A sound that struck fear in the hearts of the other two.

“Now you must know that by now I’m positively starving and in desperate need of a good meal.” The calm tone in the boy’s voice was enough to rattle the three tinies to the core. How could one be so calm while talking about something so….so…..terrible?! A Yelp, muffled by the gag, sounded from the poor tiny who was being dangled by his arms as the warm, squishy muscle of the boy’s tongue dragged itself up him. It repeated. Again, and again, and again until-

*clack*

Those on the desk still froze as their friend was closed in behind the pearly white gates of Davey’s teeth. They watched with drowning horror as the caught spy was pushed around, sucked on, and even nibbled at by the man. It was torture to see. Seemingly impossible to bear. Until things got worse-

Ulp~

Way. Worse.

They’re forced to watch as the spy slips further and further down the young man’s gullet, squeezing and slipping past the wet, soft, squishing muscles. To watch as the squirmy lump that was the man side down down down until it was out of sight. Oh but the gurgle from the boss’s stomach let them know where he was.

“Ahh~! Much better. One right where he belongs~” QuickFang hummed with a sigh. Oh to have something squirming fill his belly. The taste of vanilla sat on his tongue as he licked over his lips, a glob of thick warm drool dripping onto his desk. His gaze snapped to the two on the table once more, his grin turning sinister yet again. “And how lucky I have two more~”

The two goons on the table tried to wiggle away in hopes of escape. In hopes of living another day because they knew the moment they entered their boss’s gut they weren’t leaving. Ever. This was terrifying as is, even more so when they were seconds too late and were grabbed up in a tight fist back to back.

“Ah Ah Ah! Now where do you think you’re going~?” The man with the golden broach cooed, grinning at the two like some crazed lunatic. His teeth parted to reveal a soaking pink, plush tongue and shimmering fangs along with the dark, unforgiving tunnel of his throat. As if things couldn’t get worse, the slimy muscle of his tongue pulled itself up their tiny bodies as they squirmed in the leather glove’s grip.

“Mmmm….oh my. Tell me, why do people lacking the most brains taste the best~?” His signature grin spread on his lips, a thick layer of saliva coating his teeth as he licked them over. A low rumbling growl sounded from his gut, the tiny inside squeaking. “Oh who am I kidding. Look at me. Talking to my meal. Heheh. Oh I must be losing it. Well, down the hatch before I get worse!”

The jaw of the predator opened up like a gate, throat twitching at the end of their path. Their end. The thought made them shiver as they landed roughly on the slick surface of Davey’s tongue. Their shoulders dug into the taste buds as they skidded back. Back further and further until-

Glp-

Glk-

Glrk~

Down they go.

“Ahhh~ Oh...oh that’s good~” Davey sighed, a pleased tone to all he said as he fell back into his chair. Now that was good. His hand came to rest over his stomach as the two remaining snacks slipped in, causing a small bump to form under his shirts. A light blush dusted his face, a shudder coursing through every cell of his existence as the small bodies continued to writhe about in the dark, deathly confines of his gut.

“Awww heheh. Good job, baby~” Jack cooed, walking up behind the boss in the chair. He grinned, gently cupping the boy’s face to turn him to face him. “Awe. Dat’s the face of a full, happy lil Pred, now ain’t it~?” He slowly drew his hand back, drinking in the sight of the mob boss following it as if begging for more contact. A warm chuckle bubbled from his throat as he reached for the glass, holding the rim to Davey’s lips. He hummed small instructions to drink, giving praise once the action is done. With a smirk on his face he turned to leave, a hand grabbing his and stopping his movement.

“Oh? What’s that, Dave?” Jack asked, cocking his head. The most he got in response was a groan. “Dave. Words. Or you don’t get what you want~!”

“Mmmghhh…..Cuddles…..now….” the boy groaned, pulling at Jack’s hand weakly. A smile spread onto his face as Jack came to sit in his lap. He wrapped his arms around the boy, nuzzling into his shoulder.

“Heh someone’s snuggly~” The boy’s voice was smooth, calming to the boy who’s lap he sat in. A gentle kiss found it’s way between their lips and they relaxed in the room. Before long soft snoring sounded from the boy with the golden broach, pulling a small laugh from his right hand man. “Sleep well, Dave. Yer belly’s got a job to do. I’ll run this joint for ya while ya sleep. I’ll see ya when you wake up~”

[hotchley]

PLEASEEEEEEEEEE tell me theres a scene in bby Hotchner where they’re in public and Emily has to carry him like he’s her kid (bc honestly that’s the most realistic thing, they look super similar

(This was gonna be a whole fic, but my head is empty and I want to answer this because the visual is so cute, so here goes nothing. Also, if anyone would like to draw this, please feel free and I will love you forever. This also got slightly out of hand so please ignore how poorly placed the keep reading is but yeah)

And I low-key hate it because I feel like I didn’t really fulfil the prompt, but we’re going with it! (Again)

tw: very light implications of past child abuse 

It’s one of those days where he was restless. Rossi didn’t blame him. They were forced to spend the entire weekend indoors because of the horrific weather- he was not about to risk another cold- so he had a lot of pent up energy.

It eventually resulted in everyone giving each other identical looks because they love Aaron, they really do, but it’s very distracting and difficult to watch him running around everywhere and just being in awe of everything.

Emily stood up and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around, he saw it was her and grinned. He’d never admit to everyone because he loves all of them, but Miss Emmy is one of his favourites. They look very similar, so he can pretend she’s his real mom.

Although, he’s learnt now, that family is more than blood and parents are the ones that care for you and love you unconditionally, so really, his new family are all his parents.

“Come on child, l’m taking you to the park,” she said.

Aaron’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yes. Because you have way too much energy and you need to burn it off. Also, you look very nice today and I would like to be able to tell everyone that you’re a mini-me.”

“I dressed myself today. Mr Dave isn’t very fond of me doing that, because apparently I choose strange things, but I told him that it was because I wanted to look like all of my favourite people,” he said with a smile.

“Well I think you look very fashionable. Are the mismatched socks inspired by Dr Spencer?”

“Yeah! And the slippers are inspired by you because you always wear the shoes that you want wherever you go,” he explained.

She smiled. “Well come on mini-me. To the park we go!”

Aaron ran ahead of her. She smiled. Maybe she would never have kids of her own, but this, this was good. And nice. And it felt like she was finally getting a chance at loving a child without fearing the worst.

Three hours passed. It was three hours of Aaron burning off forty-eight hours of pent-up energy. He went on the swings- he liked it when Emily pushed him because she was always less cautious than the rest of them- down the slide. He even ran around with some of his other friends.

Emily was just glad it was the ones whose parents believed he was her son from a previous relationship. It should have occurred to her before that they needed to agree on one story, but they hadn’t, and now some parents believed it was her son whilst some believed he was Derek and Spencer’s adopted son. 

The whole thing was a mess.

“Hey child! We need to head back now. It’s going to start getting dark soon,” she called out.

Aaron came running over. He seemed much more relaxed now.

“Did you say goodbye to your friends?”

He nodded. “Can we come again tomorrow? With Miss JJ and Dr Spencer and Miss Penny and Mr Derek and Mr Dave? Because I like going with you, but I also want us all to go because it’ll be so much fun!”

Emily blanched. That was not a situation anyone was prepared for. “I- we’ll see kid. Okay?”

Aaron pouted, but nodded. “Okay.”

Something seemed off, but she couldn’t quite place what it was. She shrugged, and carried on. Children were really strange. It was when they started getting closer to the building that she picked up on what was going on.

She turned around and Aaron was dragging his feet along the road, clearly tired from his time at the park. He was fighting to keep his eyes open and every step he took seemed to lead him one step closer to sleep.

Emily ran back over and crouched down. “Child, are you tired?”

He shook his head, but the yawn he let out completely undermined him. Emily raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. 

“I’m not tired. I have so much energy that I could... listen to Dr Spencer and then tell you everything he said!”

“I won’t make you go for a nap,” she said.

“Okay, maybe I am tired.”

“That’s what I thought,” she said, and she lifted him into his arms. For his age, he was both small and incredibly light, so lifting him wasn’t even a problem for Spencer, who they all joked was the weakest.

Well, the others joked. She didn’t believe there was any evidence so suggest the opposite.

He let out a yelp when his feet left the ground, but on instinct, he wrapped his legs around her waist and his arms around the neck. After a moment, he buried his head in her neck so he was essentially clinging to her like a koala.

Emily liked carrying him, and Aaron enjoyed the feeling of being picked up. Not having to walk was nice, because it meant he could close his eyes and just not worry about anything. Also, Emily’s hair smelt like peach and oranges, which was always a pleasant thing.

He held onto her, and by the time they reached the elevator, his grip had loosened significantly because he trusted her to not drop him, and that was something that Emily took very seriously.

Hotch had fallen asleep at some point, and she wasn’t about to wake him up. As they had been walking back, several people had given her soft smiles when they saw the child in her arms. One elderly lady had said that her son was the most adorable little thing she’d ever seen. Another parent had shushed her children because the little boy was sleeping.

“Hi Em,” Anderson said when she got in.

She shook her head slightly and tilted her head towards Aaron. Not that Anderson knew it was Aaron. At least, as far as she knew he didn’t. He had given them all strange looks recently. Ones that suggested he knew something. 

“Oh is he sleeping? So sorry. You know, he looks exactly like you, it’s almost eerie.”

“Grant, he has half my DNA. Of course he looks like me.”

“I mean, he does look more like Agent Hotchner, but sure. Whatever you say,” he said with a smirk.

Emiky’s jaw dropped.

“Like I told Agent Jareau, I’m more than just a pretty face. And this is where I get off. Bye Agent Prentiss. Bye Aaron!”

When Emily looked down, Aaron was staring at her with wide eyes. All the movement had made him wake up, and he did not look impressed.

“You woke me up,” he said.

“I’m sorry child. Would you like me to put you down?”

Aaron shook his head and tightened his grip. “Like it when you pick me up. Everyone thinks I’m your kid then.”

“If you like it, then I won’t let go,” Emily said. She meant it literally, but also metaphorically. She would never let Aaron go until he was ready. There would be no more darkness in his life.

“Good,” he said.

She entered the bullpen and a few of the other agents gave her fond smiles as they realised the child in her arms had his eyes closed. He was a cute kid. The resemblance to Aaron Hotchner was uncanny, but they were almost sure that was a coincidence.

When Dave saw Emily and Aaron return, he smiled slightly. When he realised that Aaron’s head was buried in Emily’s hair, he grinned. His job was going to be a lot easier.

“Hey little one. Did you have a good time at the park?”

Aaron nodded. “Miss Emmy carried me back as well. And she didn’t drop me at all!”

Dave’s smile wavered slightly. “That’s lovely to hear Aaron. Is Miss Emmy allowed to put you down now? I’m sure she wants to keep holding you, but I’ve missed my little one.”

Aaron nodded, and Emily passed him over. Dave kissed his forehead and Aaron giggled slightly.

When they got home, Aaron wouldn’t stop talking about how much fun he had at the park with his friends, and also about how nice everyone was. Dave smiled and responded at all the right moments. Never once did he try and cut the boy off, because he finally seemed comfortable enough to speak.

Aaron wouldn’t complain when Dave sent him to bed. And after they had made sure there were no monsters in the bed, closet, or outside in the hallway, he climbed into the bed. When Dave sat beside him to put the night light on, he didn’t flinch away.

“Mr Dave?” he said just as he was about to leave.

Dave turned around.

“I love you. And Miss Emmy. A lot.”

“We love you too kid.”

Aaron smiled, and fell asleep, dreaming of parks and being held. And feeling safe.

[halequeenjas]

Glitz & Glam || Camille, Cutler, Dave, Erin, Evelyn, Jasmine, Leah, Nate, Nell, & Oz

TIMING: Tonight  PARTIES: @carrionxcamille @clarkesconvenience @seizethecarpe @corpse--diem @thronesofshadows @halequeenjas @nate-santos @nelllraiser @curatedfaetes SUMMARY: Just some mostly harmless fun celebrating Jasmine’s birthday. 

Birthdays had always been something Jasmine enjoyed, especially her own. As a self-proclaimed lover of being the center of attention, she couldn’t help but love Nell’s idea of being carried into her own party on a palanquin. The notorious Jack the stripper was one of the men carrying her into the jazz bar that was holding her New Orleans themed birthday party. Just by the looks of it, she could tell Nell, Leah, and Bea had really outdone themselves. There was a jazz band currently playing Run the World aka one of her favorite Beyonce songs. The mask decorating station was ago along with some beads. A whole table full of beignets was calling her, but it was the tiramisu cake that Nate made at the center of it all that really caught her attention. Jasmine soaked in some of the cheers as she was carried into the center of the room.

 Nate had made sure to get to the venue early enough to set up the delicate tiramisu cake in all it’s glory. Originally, he’d wanted to do much more gold leafing, but other than on the decorative macarons, it just ended up covering the beautiful layers and that wouldn’t do. He stood back and admired his creation until Jasmine herself entered in true Jasmine fashion: carried in an ornate palanquin carried by muscled men to the sounds of Beyonce. He grinned, expecting nothing less of Jasmine Hale. He applauded along with a few others and hoped beyond hope that this would be just another ordinary party with ordinary people. 

 Nell was one of the many cheers to accolade Jasmine as the woman was carried in by assorted and muscular men, and she gave Jack a friendly wave as he too made his course across the floor. It was hard to forget the time he’d been dressed as a sailor at Bea’s party, and then the time he was Bea’s plus one to Nell’s party. It seemed that their little gaggle of girls had decided to adopt Jack to some extent, and he was quickly becoming a permanent fixture at parties. “Yes, Jasmine!” she yelled along with the rest of the crowd, accidentally jostling the Mardi Gras mask she was wearing while cupping her hands around her mouth. Though...now that she thought of it...now was the perfect time to grab a handful of beignets while all eyes were focused on Jasmine, and she quickly made her way towards the pastry table. “Scuse me,” she offered to whoever got in her path as she worked her way toward the sweetness.

 The last party Dave had been at, he hadn't been, strictly speaking, invited. He had, strictly speaking, almost drowned because he'd been trapped in a magically frozen lake. So. This could only be better. Although it felt mighty weird being invited to a party when the only time he'd really gotten to know Jasmine was by being attacked by Bloody Mary. Wasn't the neatest way of getting to know people. There were some faces he recognised, but as he waited for Jas to come in... Dave felt more than a little out of place in all this glamour. Doubly so when Jasmine (who he really only knew as an exorcist) came in on a goddamn palanquin. It was at this point that Dave concluded he would need a whole lot more beer.

 Attending functions that were important to one’s friends was the right thing to do, and Evelyn also knew that she truly enjoyed Jasmine’s company, and the two of them hadn’t had too much time to spend together recently. What better way to remedy that than by attending her birthday party? Miriam had given her full approval of her outfit (which wasn’t truly something she needed, but she enjoyed having the approval of others, so it certainly didn’t hurt). Evelyn couldn’t help but grin at Jasmine’s entrance. A bit over-the-top, certainly, but charming and perfectly executed. Though she shouldn’t have expected anything less. She’d grabbed one of the beignets and was absent-mindedly picking at it, giving a small wave to Jasmine as she was carried in.

 Once in the center of the room. Jasmine gracefully exited the palanquin as Jack offered her a hand. She smiled widely at the room filled with her various friends and acquaintances. As the song and cheers quieted, she called out, “Thank you so much to everyone for being here. I hope you have as much fun as I do. Please, help yourself to the open bar and assorted snacks available.” She made her way over to the bar to get herself a glass of champagne. It was, after all, a celebration. She dawned her lovely Mardi Gras green dress with gold accents with a lovely mask that included the use of crystals and gold flakes around the edges to give her an extra glamorous flair. She greeted her friends who were already at the bar and was ready for good old fashioned cheers. 

 From the moment she walked in, Erin had been pretty damn sure that she’d never been to a party quite as festive or extravagant as the one she’d stepped into. But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense for someone like Jasmine, and hollered and cheered as loud as she could along with the group when she was literally carried into her party. Good for her, she thought, as she beelined for the mouth-watering treats that lined one of the tables. After making sure she had a glass of champagne, of course. “Excuse you,” she joked, gently nudging Nell away and snatched one of the desserts she was reaching for first.

 So, Camille wasn’t going to say no to an excuse to let her hair down, especially now that she lived alone, even if she didn’t know all these people it was nice just to be out for a fun evening. The decor alone would’ve been enough to indicate that Jasmine intended to throw one hell of a party, and her over the top entrance confirmed it. She laughed and cheered along with others as she was carried in, and then realized that if she was going to be any sort of entertaining at this party a drink was probably a good idea. Thank god for an open bar. With a glass of wine in her hand Camille felt much better, and it wasn’t long before Jasmine appeared at the bar too. “Hey you!” She grinned, already feeling a bit excitable as she clinked their glasses together, “happy birthday! That was an interesting way to kick things off.”

 Not one for giving speeches and drawing attention to herself, especially in the state she was currently in, Leah was happy to let Nell and the others pour accolades and love on Jasmine as she was carried into the party, grinning genuinely for the first time in a few days at the ridiculousness of it all. She looked down at her outfit, wondering if she’d managed to stop it from clashing with her new sling and cast and feeling unusually self conscious.  She waved as Evelyn approached her, grabbing a beignet for herself and taking a bite.   “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for a drink”, she said to Evelyn.  “Can you drink…?  With your… you know, allergies?”

 Nell had already told Jasmine ‘Happy Birthday’ on multiple occasions, including when she’d shown up to help get the decorations in order— so she wasn’t all the intent on pushing through the mob to get to Jasmine at the moment. No doubt she’d make her way over there later, though. No. This was the time for powdered sugared pastries and...apparently Erin. Nell grinned up at the woman with little to no apologies, already stuffing one of the beignets into her mouth and swallowing before answering. But Erin was quick to snatch up the next one she’d had her eye on, “Hey! No, excuse you! That one’s mine- go get your own.” Nell wasn’t so proud so as not to swipe at the pastry Erin had stolen, doing her best to keep the mortician from actually eating it.

 She gave another wave to Leah, grateful to recognize someone in this party besides Jasmine. Evelyn grinned. “Luckily, one can trust Jasmine to have excellent taste in alcohol, so I say absolutely.” She nodded at her friend’s next question. “I can. Well, most drinks. Can… you?” She remembered Leah mentioning issues with water, but wasn’t sure how that extended itself to other liquids. “Just perhaps not a margarita for me, but most other things work well.” She nodded. “Shall we?”

 Nate shuffled himself a bit out of the way of the table to make room for anyone who wanted to grab a beignet or praline, mumbled out an ‘excuse me’ here and there. Nowadays he was far from the party animal he used to be, a man who once took up so much space at a gathering and dragged people out to the dance floor in droves. Now, he was hanging out by the food and trying to make himself as small as humanly possible, his fingers wrapped tightly around the glass of champagne he’d gotten when he came in. 

 Jasmine was more than happy to see Camille at the bar and was even happier that the woman had lived with Cece. New gal pals were always a win in her book and she was smiling ear to ear as she greeted her friend. “I’m so glad you made it,” she exclaimed, “And that dress looks amazing on you.” She laughed a bit at the comment on her entrance. What was a birthday without a grand entrance? Grand people deserved grand entrances. It was like the law… or something. “Thank you. I’ve always been of the go big or go home mentality. I’ll give credit where it’s due and note it was Nell’s idea. If you don’t know her, I’m sure you’ll meet her today. If anything she says sounds too crazy, she’s probably trolling you.” 

 Oz was not immune to a good party. More often than not, they invited chaos. Less often, they were decent opportunities to get information on targets, slip away into unguarded chambers for reconnaissance. He’d spent most of his week arguing with minor artists in the northeast, weighing their work against each other for a spot in the opening exhibition. It made him prickly and, worse, gave him little time to explore the town. Finally, he had time. Wandering through the cold streets, he drifted naturally towards the raucous music coming from Speakeasy, just in time to see a woman being carried in on a palanquin. Huh. Oz slipped in, searching for someone who’d actually been invited. There was a nervous-looking man standing by the food. Perfect. He plucked his own glass of champagne from another guest on the way over, and raised it to the man. “A toast to new friends.” Oz figured, if nothing else, he could have a bit of fun messing with this guy.

 Leah nodded as well, happy to have a chance to explain a bit more to Evelyn.  “I can, mostly everything.  Just water is a no-go.”  She thought about what Evenlyn said, nodding.  No Margaritas, no salt.  Evelyn had mentioned briefly that her skin reacted to salt, but this all but confirmed that the reactions were due to her supernatural status.  That narrowed it down significantly.  “We shall”, she grinned, popping the last bit of beignet  into her mouth before they made their way over.  She was determined to enjoy this night, injuries be damned.  With the wall as her guide, she made her way over to the bar with Evelyn.  “I do really need to treat you to lunch”, she said over her shoulder to the other woman.  “It’s the least I can do after that… sizeable donation I received on Christmas.  It’s too bad this is open bar, Evelyn, otherwise I’d insist on buying for you all night.”

 Nate nearly jumped out of his skin when someone addressed him directly. He’d been perfectly fine standing like a wallflower, careful not to look at anyone too closely lest he see that they had horns or hooves or something equally as monstrous. He smiled at the man and raised his glass a bit, nodding in response to his cheers. “To new friends,” he managed before taking a long sip. Out of the corner of his eye, the newcomer seemed to ebb and flow out of his vision, but when he looked straight on, he was totally normal. Nate took a deep breath. Must be the champagne. “So uh...how do you know Jas?” Cutler was determined to show Jasmine that he had more than one formal outfit in his closet. He had two, to be precise - but she didn’t have to know that. He felt strangled and hot and was beginning to regret the skinny black tie, which hung short over a leafy tropical button up. His eyes were drawn away from the engrossing task of tugging and smoothing his tie by the eruption of cheers around him, followed by the entrance of Jasmine on the palanquin. The bottle of D'Autrefois Pinot Noir suddenly felt heavy at his side as it dawned on him that he was, once again, far out of his depth. She looked extravagant and expensive, as did the cake, the decorations, and everyone here. Probably-no,definitely-too busy to chat. His free hand was already gesturing abstractly in the air at the end of the bar as he thought, I’m not getting through this without a drink. A couple rubbing elbows away, he recognized Erin tussling over a beignet and made a mental note to find her if he needed a reason not to talk to the person he came here to see. Near him, someone mumbled a quiet excuse me and he straightened against the bar to make room for the passerby. “You’re good, man.” He nodded, giving a small smile of acknowledgement. Someone behind him was toasting, and he raised his glass in a pavlovian, robotic response. “New friends.” He echoed, swallowing his drink with professional flourish.

 “That is good to know.” Evelyn nodded. “Yes, I just find that avoiding things like that is better.” Even if she still wasn’t entirely sure how she would react to salted items, it was easier to explain things that was versus explaining that she just couldn’t walk over salt lines. But that was something to discuss when it was just the two of them, and when they weren’t celebrating a dear friend’s birthday. “We will make a plan of it,” she offered Leah a gentle smile. “Besides, that donation was more than earned and was far less than you deserve. If it makes you feel better, you can order for me, how does that sound? Red wine is always a plus in my book.” 

 “You snooze you lose, kid--hey!” Erin laughed as Nell pawed at the macaron on it’s way to her mouth. She put her arm up, blocking off the shorter woman with just enough time to pop the treat into her mouth. “Get away, there’s like a hundred more!” She said, pointing to the table with a full mouth. She washed it down with the last sip of the champagne in her glass and grabbed a few more treats. There were more than a few familiar faces but she could see the woman of the hour from here. Grabbing a few treats in a napkin for the short walk, she headed towards the bar. “Happy Birthday, lady!” She greeted. “I’m pretty sure that was the most fabulous entrance I’ve ever seen in my life. Which, you know. Makes absolute sense considering…” she didn’t need to finish her sentence, just gestured towards Jasmine with a big grin.

 “I can’t remember the last time I went to a party, which meant I had to come.” Camille smiled and sipped her wine, brushing a hand down the front of her dress. It was vaguely on theme- apparently purple was a mardi gras colour- which was good enough considering the small wardrobe she had to work with. “Thanks. Though I don’t look as good as you, obviously.” Her eyes strayed over to the food table, and the woman mentioned. “Oh, I think we’ve met.” Camille looked in thought for a moment, as if trying to remember her. Like she could forget. “Yeah… At a coffee shop. Just briefly, we nearly mixed up our orders.” She laughed, “she seemed nice. I’m sure she won’t say anything crazy- is that a habit of hers?”

 Someone else had echoed Oz’s toast behind him, and Oz shifted his body just so, inviting the person into the conversation without explicitly acknowledging them. The wider a circle could get, the more it’d look like Oz belonged here. Oz grinned, all teeth. “I don’t, actually.” The man seemed to be avoiding his gaze. Oz was hot, but he’d never pushed a man (or otherwise, for that matter) from averting his eyes from his good looks. Did he know this man, somehow? Faces swam in his memory, but none matched with the person in front of him. He filed that information away, searching for a quick half-truth. “I’ve been looking for someone who does know her, but I’ve only found you.” Oz winked, taking a quick swig of his champagne. He shrugged, amicably. “It’s not a party if you’re not meeting new people, I say.” He tossed a quick grin to the man who’d joined in on the faux-toast. “Speaking of…” He held out his hand to the newcomer, another shark-wide grin. “Osric.” A wink over his shoulder to the shy man. “But you can both call me Oz, if you like.”

 “You said it, not me,” Jasmine said with a small laugh to indicate she was in fact joking. It was one thing to call herself beautiful and another entirely to claim she was the most gorgeous person in the room… no matter how true it was. When Camille said she had already met Nell, Jasmine would have bet actual money that it was because Nell had trolled her on the internet. As it turned out, that wasn’t the case. “Oh, good! I’m glad to hear that. And let’s just say she has a penchant for messing with people. It can be highly amusing depending on who you are.” When Erin walked up to join them for a drink, she gave a welcoming wave and smile. “Erin, hey! Have you met my friend Camille?” She gestured to the lovely woman in purple standing beside her. “Thanks, it was Nell’s idea, but I think I pulled it off fabulously. Well, me and the attractive muscled men.” 

 Nell didn’t leave her crusade of taking back the pastry unfinished until Erin had finally and wholly eaten it, determined to make Erin regret taking the macaron that Nell had been eyeing at least a little bit. But as the other woman drifted towards Jasmine, Nell followed suit- but not before stacking an impressively sized tower of pastries into her tiny gremlin hands. “Happy Birthday!” Nell yelled at Jasmine for what was probably the third or fourth time that day. She’d only just caught the tail end of Jasmine’s conversation while walking up, and cocked her head to the side while catching her name. “Of course you pulled it off fabulously. The muscled men were just accessories, and we know it. You were the crown jewel.” With that she ate another of the many pastries in her hands whole.

 Leaning against the bar for support, Leah’s eyes widened at Evelyn.  “Please”, she chided, “That was more than enough.  I don’t think we’ve ever had this much surplus in our budget before… it’s... incredible.”  She thought on it, nodding.  Evelyn’s idea would have to do, at least for now.   The bartenders, for their part, worked quickly, and she handed Evelyn a glass of Pinot Noir, grining.  “In honor of the birthday girl, …her favorite”, she said sipping on her own glass.  “How do you know Jas?”, she wondered, watching Jasmine in her element.  It was a relief that this party was going over so well.  Jasmine, above almost everyone, deserved such an extravagant celebration.

She eyed Leah, a bit of a concerned look crossing her face. But whatever had happened to her, Evelyn wasn’t going to force her to say anything. She didn’t think that Leah was quite as private as she was, but she also didn’t want to pry too much. “Well, you and the library deserve it. So it was my pleasure. She took the glass from Leah, “and an excellent favorite it is, if I do say so myself.” She took a small sip before answering - first glancing over to where Jasmine was standing, before focusing back on Leah. “When I first moved here - well, it will be five years come April - she sold me my house. We got along quite well and I suppose just sort of naturally clicked. How about yourself?” She asked, tapping her fingers against the wine glass. Cutler hummed reciprocally, only half listening to the toaster in front of him. Behind his flowery words, he had a magnetic quality about him. He was attractive, sure, but this wasn’t something so tangible. Whatever was causing the third in their circle to avert his gaze was the same thing that held Cutler’s attention even as champagne bottles popped behind the bar and little pieces of gold confetti itched at his beard. “Oz.” He repeated, pumping their hand shake with a relaxed grip. “Cutler.” He took another sip of his drink and looked between the two men before deciding to weigh in on their conversation. “So, Oz. You don’t know Jasmine? Are you party crashing?” The last drops of his whisky crashed against the side of his glass as he set it on the bar and gestured for one more. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna rat you out. Friend.” He winked, imitating Oz’s earlier action. 

 Erin turned to the other woman with a bright smile. “I haven’t! Nice to meet you. I’m Erin,” she said before putting down her empty glass and plucking up a fresh flute. She felt only a little out of her element at the moment, surrounded by the glitz and glamour of the theme of the party, but it wasn’t a bad feeling at all. Jasmine’s excitement was downright infectious. “Oh, beautiful accessories. Good call,” she agreed. Glancing between Nell and Jasmine, she subtly pointed to one of those muscled men who’d carried her in. “Wait, isn’t that the same guy from your party, Nell?”

 Nate stepped to the side again, widening his circle out of muscle memory. Luckily the new guy seemed totally normal too. He breathed a sigh of relief and continued to try and ignore the watery edges of the man who didn’t seem to know Jas at all. Not that he could blame the guy if he was crashing, this was probably going to be the event of the season. Not to mention Nate hadn’t always been invited to every party he’d been to. He smiled a bit more easily, though the guy - Oz - had something about his smile that made him feel like prey. “Nate,” he introduced himself to the two men before taking another long sip. “Definitely not a Hale party without new friends, that’s for sure.” 

 Camille returned the smile and sipped her drink, “It’s nice to meet you too, Erin.” She nudged Jasmine gently in the side, “we shouldn’t inflate her ego too much.” She teased, “I dread to think what mode of transportation she’ll manage to find next year when her birthday rolls around again.” Camille gave Nell what she hoped was a warm enough smile, despite the nerves that disturbed her at seeing the other woman again. This was a party, surely she wouldn’t say anything out of turn. Though Erin’s question served to distract her from that fear, “How have I never seen this guy before? He is like… The intimidating kind of hot.” She spoke in a hushed tone, so to not be overheard by said man.

 “You’re too sweet”, Leah said with a shy grin, sipping more wine.  It was going down easier than she expected, and that was saying something.  She was determined to find a way to pay the woman back- along with Mercy and Arthur, too, one way or another. Her eyebrows raised in realization at Evelyn’s anecdote, and she nodded.  “She meets so many people that way, it’s incredible.  She sold me my house as well, but well… we met years before that.  We’ve been best friends since we were kids”, she explained, smiling nostalgically.  “Despite White Crest’s antics we’ve managed to stick together with another friend of ours for forever.  It’d feel strange not to be in her life now, honestly.”

 Another wide grin was on her face as Nell approached. Jasmine was grateful for how she pulled this whole shindig off. “Thank you, Nellie. And thank you for planning this perfect party. I don’t know how any of my future birthdays could ever top this.” She gestured around at the decor and crowd. They’d cross that bridge when they got to it. She laughed as Erin and Nell spoke and agreed, “My favorite kind of accessory. Think one of them knows how to cook and is down for being a trophy husband?” Jasmine looked over at who Erin was gesturing to. “Oh, Jack? He was at both Bea’s and Nell’s birthday parties. He’s pretty much a birthday staple at this point. A very, very hot birthday staple.” At the mention of her next mode of transportation, Jasmine giggled and took another sip of champagne. “I’m sure we’ll think of something to top this entrance for next year.” She gave Nell a playful nudge as she spoke. Maybe a magic carpet or like a Britney Spears “Baby One More Time” tour style of flying over the crowd. There was an amused grin on her face as Camille spoke of Jack. “Oh, he’s definitely super hot, but don’t let it be intimidating. He’s a nice guy. Plus, you’re also really hot. And a delight!” 

 “Oh yeah, that’s Jack!” Nell said brightly, giving another wave in the stripper’s direction. She was pretty sure Bea had brought him over for dinner sometimes at this point. “I think he’s Bea’s friend now.” Or maybe she was wrong. It was hard to keep track of things when she was under constant demon cult barrage. Nell’s gaze lingered a little too long on Camille, still having far too many questions when it came to the woman’s necromancy origins. Unfortunately, now wasn’t the place to ask them. “Oh, Jack’s not intimidating, really. He’s actually very sweet.” Sending Jasmine another grin, she rearranged her pile of pastries to make sure none of them fell. “I’m just glad I could help. You know I love makin’ parties. And I’m sure we’ll think of something for next year.”

 Oz feigned a grimace at Cutler’s words, the back of his mind sparking with intent. It was always useful to start lacing webs of promises early, especially ones that had been lined up so neatly for him. “Ah, thanks friends.” Little too thick? Eh. “Promise you two will cover for me if things ever go south?” He shrugged amicably. “I’m new in town, and I’d like to avoid making enemies. For now.” Oz huffed out an awkward, fake laugh.

 “Hardly - or, perhaps, selectively,” Evelyn sighed for a moment, though she kept a small smile on her face. Perhaps she was, if so many people kept insisting upon it. “I do suppose that a job like hers lends itself to that. She does manage it expertly, from what I can tell.” She was grateful to have met someone like Jasmine back then - in part because she didn’t judge Evelyn for being relatively young and able to pay for the house in full right to start, but also for the genuine feeling that their conversations had held, even from the beginning. Even though, as far as she knew, Jasmine was human. “She did? Well, she certainly has a way about the town, so that makes sense.” Her expression softened, and for a moment she glanced down at the floor. What was it like to have a friend since childhood? “That’s great! I’ve heard that can happen, if you have a friend for long enough. Becomes weird to imagine your life without them. I’m glad you two have one another,” she replied genuinely. Grabbing her phone for one moment, she took a photograph of her wine glass, sending a text to Miriam quickly before focusing back on her friend. “A friend could not make it, and so I told her I’d keep her updated on what is going on.” She provided as an explanation. “Does Jasmine try to throw parties like this for you, too? Or did she ever, in all your years of knowing one another?”

 Nate nodded, absently picking up a few beignets to occupy his hands and mouth. It had been so long since he’d been to a party or around a bunch of guys that he’d nearly forgotten how to hold a conversation. His heart was hammering but he tried not to show it, instead focusing on what he could control. “Oh yeah, of course.” He glanced around the room full of laughter and drinking and dancing, wondering how anything could go south. “I’ll help you out in any way I can, enemies here are...well they’re not great to have.” 

 Cutler wasn’t sure if it was the drink or the infectious nature of the other man’s grin, but he felt compelled to agree. “Sure, I’ll cover for you. I don’t think you have much to worry about, though. Seems like an open-invite deal. Don’t see them cracking down on party crashers. Talk about a mood ruiner.” His eyes went from the beignets back up to the third man’s mouth, now stuffed. “Enemies?” Something at the back of his mind began to pulse nervously. All this talk of enemies and trouble, perhaps. “You guys make a lot of enemies? You’d level with me if you were planning something, right?”

 Leah smiled softly at Evelyn’s explanation, reminding her of their previous conversation about emojis.  “Some people like taking pictures of their food and drinks just for fun.  As some sort of documentation, I suppose.”  She shook her head at Evelyn’s question, taking another gulp of wine.  “I think Jasmine and Bea- that’s our other friend-, I think they know I’d just about die if they subjected me to something like this.  Too much attention, I think...I wouldn’t enjoy it at all.  I prefer a quiet dinner with close friends, usually.  Did you ever have big extravagant birthday parties?” She imagined she must have, coming from the childhood she did.  Though she did remember her mentioning that she didn’t have any siblings, or many friends growing up since she never went to school.  Leah hoped her question wasn’t insensitive.  

 Dave breathed in deeply as he took in the scenery, feeling distinctly out of place in his only mildly frayed shirt and cargo shorts, but that was what Jasmine had signed up for. As he inhaled, he caught the scent of a brackish pond, like someone had just been fishing and had fallen in or something. It was deeply familiar. He turned his attention over to a trio of men, where the smell was coming from, walking over. "Evenin' folks. Mind if I join? Don't know too many folks at this party." And most of them were young.

 “A hot air balloon?” Camille chimed in with her idea, giggling as she took another sip from her glass.  She turned her gaze back to Nell, “this is a really impressive party, by the way. Like, wow.” A compliment couldn’t hurt in making sure her secrets were kept for now, right? Plus it was true. Cam had organized a few parties for co-workers before but this was beyond anything she’d ever done. “Oh.” She waved a hand dismissively, “a delight I may be, but I can’t compete with abs like that. Not that- it’s still too soon for me to be thinking about guys and what have you, probably.” She thought of Carrington for a moment and tried not to blush, hiding her face with another gulp from her wine glass. “How do you two know Jasmine, then?” She asked, trying to steer the topic another way.

 Nate’s eyes went wide. “Planning something? Here? Ohhh absolutely not,” he laughed, eyeing Jasmine. The idea of ruining her lavish party with some sort of prank or scheme was far beyond Nate, even in his prankster years. “Talk about making an enemy.” He tossed another beignet into his mouth. “No, more like...you peeve someone off and they leave strang packages on your doorstep for a month. Or blast music at all hours of the night. Or suddenly your car goes missing. Nothing super doom and gloom.” At least that’s what Nate had experienced, not that he ever made many enemies. He turned to the new addition and smiled, the expression freezing on his face when the man spoke. Needle sharp teeth extended from his gums where normal human teeth should have been. His words were friendly enough, but altogether ruined by the fact that he looked like Jaws had a baby with a person. “Y-yeah! The more the merrier!”

 Oz masked a smile at the newcomer’s appearance, happy to be able to avoid any probing questions from Cutler’s direction. A tingle of power echoed the men’s words in the back of his head. “Absolutely! We were just having a conversation about how I didn’t know anybody at this party. My invite…” He let the sentence trail off. Whatever they’d construct was fine, especially given the promises. Nate, however, looked less than pleased at their new arrival. “The more the merrier,” he echoed. What was going on here…?

 “I am trying to attempt to be some variation of with the times, I suppose.” Not that Evelyn figured Leah would mind too much - or at all - if she were not, but some part of her still found herself feeling a bit too out of touch at times. “I sort of had gathered as much. Quiet dinner, or a time spent with films or books, seems far more up your alley.” The name Bea sounded vaguely familiar to her, but she’d have to focus on that more later. “Oh, I have been part of many extravagant parties, birthdays absolutely included in that. My father threw me a party with about two thousand people… somehow… for my fourteenth birthday. I think he just wanted to show me off. I do not know where he found that many people and I spent most of my time to the side. I had other large parties, but that was the biggest. Since coming here, I have found that I sometimes prefer things more lowkey, I’d rather spend time with a few people I care about than many people I,” find boring, too human, and do not care for, “do not know. So I suppose things can change. I have nothing against attention, but I think finally having friends,” she shrugged, “gives a new perspective. I am glad Jasmine gets all this attention though, she deserves it.”

 “Maybe getting carried out could just be your thing each year, you know? Just add a new spin to it. But always, always include the muscle men. I think that part goes without saying but I needed to emphasize it.” Erin glanced over at Nell’s pile of treats and snagged another one from her. Her grin brightened when she noticed Cutler across the way, and after wishing Jasmine another happy birthday, she excused herself and made her way over to the circle of guys loitering by the desserts. “Hey! I didn’t know you knew Jasmine,” she said upon approaching. “Looking snazzy, though. It’s good to see you!” Cutler glanced toward the newcomer, not expecting to have to cover for his new acquaintance quite so soon. He made another noncommittal grunt of agreement and nodded a chin toward him. “Not true, Oz. You know me.” He smiled, the half-truth only a little sour on his tongue. The predatory look on his accomplice’s face didn’t alleviate any of the discomfort that was beginning to turn his stomach. “Of course we don’t mind-” He was cut off by the appearance of Erin at his side, a welcome distraction. “Hey! You clean up nice yourself.” He lifted the wine bottle in his hand woefully and leaned in a little closer to be heard. “Only a little. I was going to give her this, but I..” He turned his head to see her, doting upon her loyal attendees. “...I think she’s busy.”  

“I think you’re doing great, Evelyn.  Blending right in!”.  Leah smiled at Evelyn’s correct assumptions about her, finishing up her last few sips of wine.  “You’ve already read me like a book, it seems”, she mused.   She listened carefully as her friend told her another extravagant story about her childhood, this one just as interesting as the last she’d heard.  “That sounds… incredible,... but perhaps a bit uncomfortable?”  It seemed by the way she was describing it that Evelyn felt more like a trophy piece to her father than his daughter.  “I’m glad, at least, that you’ve been able to establish more of your own rhythm in life.  That’s perhaps the hardest part of coming into adulthood and separating from the people who raised you.”  She thought for a moment, waiting a beat before speaking again.  “But hey-  m

“Hot air balloon sounds fun, but Erin may be right. Having the muscled men is really part of the appeal,” Jasmine joked. Well, maybe it wasn’t so much a joke as it was said jokingly. Almost instantly she was shaking her head, “You can compete with his abs. Don’t undersell yourself, you’re a catch.” She would take none of her friends not believing they shouldn’t shoot their shot. “And hey, if he’s not into it, he’s not into it. That’s a different story entirely though. Ask guys out on dates whenever it feels right for you.” While she was single herself, Jasmine liked to think she had a wealth of wisdom to provide on the subject of dating. Rule number one was always no mimes. Don’t trust anyone on Tinder in this town was a close second. That was how you became someone’s dinner. Decidedly not the type of snack anyone wanted to be. “Anyway, I think it’s time for a toast.” She took that moment to welcome herself onto the stage where the band was playing and clink her glass. “Everyone, I purpose a toast. To another year of thriving and happiness with some of the greatest people in town.” She raised her glass to the crowd before finishing off the flute of champagne. It was now time for dancing and she had the feeling one of the muscled men who carried her in would make for a perfect dancing partner.

[zacc-attacc]

Nature: A Javid Oneshot

A/N: My first ever oneshot on this website! I hope y’all enjoy!

Word Count- 1.2k

Jack loved the open sky. He loved the stars, the sounds of nature, and everything in between. But, more than anything, it calmed him, something that not many things were able to do. As a kid, he had always dreamed of falling asleep under the stars every single night. And when he was bounced around in foster care, the night sky had been the one common variable. Always there, like a blanket. Luckily for Jack, Some of the Newsies had put together a camping trip in the woods near campus. They had tents (from the Dollar Tree, probably), a bunch of marshmallows, some hotdogs, and a whole lot of energy. And Jack? Jack an invite and a limited will to live. At least Davey would be there, which, to be honest, had its ups and downs.

Ups, because Davey was single-handedly the sweetest human alive and a fun dude to hang out with. And downs, because Davey was Mom Friend Supreme™ and also had an annoying tendency to make Jack’s normally stoic heart do a tap dance in his chest. Which really was inconvenient because Jack’s last relationship had ended only four weeks ago. It wasn’t a nasty breakup, he and Katherine were actually still friends, but the boys still expected him to be depressed about it. But Jack didn’t like to linger. He was upset for a few days, but now he was over it. Katherine obviously was as well, since she was seen going on a few coffee dates with some girl. 

But tonight, none of that mattered. Tonight, he could be whoever he wanted to be because that’s just how it was with the Newsies.

Tonight, he could eat bargain hot dogs and s’ mores, and avoid the fact that he was hopelessly in love with the only man he couldn’t have; because god forbid David Jacobs dated a mess like him. 

Jack knew exactly where he lay in David’s mind. He was a close friend, maybe a sort of Uncle to his future children with his perfect little life with his husband in the suburbs. David liked him well enough, but he would likely never love him. And Jack had tried to accept that, even though, thus far, it had only made it much worse.

“Ay! Jack! You packed?” Crutchie yelled from his lower bunk. Jack was stretched out on the top bunk, staring at a half-finished political cartoon for his class. 

“Yeah… What time’d the guys say to be there?” Jack sat up, hitting his head on the low ceiling. He wasn’t even that tall and it managed to injure him on a daily basis. 

“...In five minutes.”

“Shit-” Jack muttered, scrambling to jump down the bunk, only succeeding in hitting his head yet again on the ceiling. After hitting the floor in the heap, all Jack could hear was Crutchie’s cackles. 

“Just kidding, It’s actually in 20- I just wanted to see your reaction,” Crutchie wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“Yeah, real funny, Crutch,” Jack mumbled, rolling his eyes and smiling. As much as he loved his little brother, he, unfortunately, knew exactly how to get Jack riled up quite easily, which normally ended in Jack running into a wall or stabbing himself in the arm with a pen in a panic.

“S’funny to me,” Crutchie choked out, still laughing. Jack pushed himself to his feet, brushing off the assorted chip crumbs that had migrated from the shitty shag carpeting of his dorm onto his shirt.

“I know, I know,” Jack muttered, grabbing Crutchie’s crutch from the wall and handing them to him. Looking at his laughing face, Jack couldn’t help but crack a smile. 

“Alright, let’s get a move on… You ready?” Jack shook his head while still grinning, snatching his duffle bag and Crutchie’s backpack from beside the door. 

“Ay! I can carry that!" Crutchie protested, making a grab at the bag. 

“Wow, brother dearest, won’t even let me carry a bag,” Jack joked, sticking out his tongue and popping into a dead sprint down the hallway. 

“NOW THAT’S JUST UNCALLED FOR!” Crutchie yelled from the hallway. 

“LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU, STUPID HEAD!” Jack shouted back, slamming open the door for the stairs and sliding onto the railings down the flights. Once he reached the bottom, he pulled out his phone.

“Text RaceyBoi.” 

“What would you like to say?” that stupid automated voice asked back, not fully human or robotic. 

“‘Can you go walk Crutchie to the campsite? Left him for CPS reasons.’” CPS was not, in fact, Child Protective Services, but instead Crutchie Protection Squad.

Smiling to himself, Jack started walking towards the woods on the outskirts of campus. He thought he saw Kid Blink and Spot at one point, Heely-ing towards the woods. He couldn’t help but wonder how the wheels would hold up amongst all the vegetation, and quietly hoped he wouldn’t have to call an ambulance tonight. 

“Hey, Jack!” came a familiar voice from behind him. His heart automatically deciding to kick into overdrive, Jack turned around to see none other than David Jacobs, grinning and clutching a duffle bag. 

“Whaddup, Dave,” Jack grinned back, clapping the taller boy on the shoulder. Seriously, who gave him the right to be this tall? He was like a noodle with a head and arms. 

“You heading down to the campsite?” Davey asked, falling into step with Jack. 

“That’s the plan. Race is taking Crutchie so that idiot won’t try to carry his backpack again.” 

“...You realize he can carry it perfectly fine, right?” Davey said, looking slightly confused.

“Yeah, but I just feel like doin’ something nice for him, y’ know?” 

“You may be stupid at times, but you are a good brother, Jack Kelly,” Davey chuckled, taking off his hat and flipping it backward. 

“Ey, now don’t get to tellin’ the boys that, I have a reputation as a jerk to keep,” Jack couldn’t stop smiling. Why couldn’t he stop smiling? He felt like someone had turned him into the fucking sun from the Teletubbies. 

“I don’t think you could pass as a jerk if you tried,” Davey shrugged, looking into Jack’s eyes so he could get the point across. God, his eyes were brown. Beautiful, chocolatey, perfect brown. 

“You would be surprised,” Jack said, tearing his eyes away. 

Don’t let yourself get attached, dammit. 

“Hey,” Davey stopped. Jack stopped too, staring at him. He put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. 

“Don’t… Don’t talk like that. I know you, Jackie. Okay? And you aren’t an asshole.” 

“Jeez, David, only a few minutes into the trip and you’re already on the late-night talks-” Jack turned away, hoping Davey couldn’t see that he was blushing. 

“I need to hear you say it, okay?” He turned Jack around, forcing him yet again to look into his eyes. 

“Fine. I… I ain’t an asshole. Ya happy?” Jack bit his tongue forcefully. That almost physically pained him to say. 

“Yeah. I… I’m sorry Jack,” Davey said. Jack still wasn’t looking at him. 

“Don’t apologize for caring, Davey.” 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It was late. The shitty fire that had taken them almost a full hour to make was burning low, and Jack had to keep prodding it with a random stick to keep it lit. Most of the boys had already retired to their tents and sleeping bags, and Davey was fast asleep on his chair. Race was the only one still out. 

“Do you think we should wake him up?” Race said, tossing the remains of his s’more into the fire. 

“What? Oh, nah, I’ll wake him up when I head in. Poor kid, being a pre-med student probably never sleeps,” Jack pointed out. 

“How long do you think you’ll be staying out?” Race asked, standing up and stretching. 

“‘Till I get tired,” Jack prodded the fire again, before throwing in another stick. 

“Then he’ll be out here all night,” Race joked, cracking a smile.

“I’ll wake him up before then. Wouldn’t want him to get hypothermia or some shit.” 

“It’s the middle of April, I highly doubt he’ll get hypothermia, Jack.” 

“...Did Racetrack Higgins seriously just say an educated statement?”

“Goodnight-” Race turned away suddenly, seeming intent on changing the subject. 

“YOU CAN’T CHANGE IT NOW, WE KNOW YOU’RE SMART,” Jack whisper-shouted, not wanting to wake any of the boys up (especially not Davey). 

Race replied with his silence. 

Sighing, Jack sat back in his chair. Not having any will to sleep, and nothing more to do, he grabbed out his sketchbook. Nature was always good for inspiration. 

Well, it could’ve been nature, or it could’ve been Davey. Because, without even realizing it, Jack had started to sketch the sleeping boy’s figure. His right fist was supporting his cheek, his hat was half-tipped onto his face, shading it slightly. His legs were crossed, and his left arm was set on top of them. 

Behind him was a backdrop of pine trees, and, even though that wasn’t the actual view, a full moon, and stars. So many stars. All spelling out little words of love in Spanish, Jack’s first language. 

Precioso. Bonita. Perfecto. 

His hair was mostly tucked under his cap. His eyes were softer when he slept. A ghost of a smile played at his lips. 

Increíble. 

Perfect. 

Just as Jack was signing his name and dating the piece, Davey began to stir. 

Quickly shutting the book, Jack simply stared up at the stars he could see despite the light pollution and thick trees. 

“Hey, Jack, saw you drawing there,” Davey said, quietly. 

“Oh- uh- yeah, just… lookin’ through some old pieces,” Jack stammered. 

“Can I see?” 

“Uh- no, this isn’t my graded stuff, it’s all just sketches-“

“Y’know, for an art student, you really don’t like showing your art.” 

“Uh- Fine.” Jack gave up and strode across the fire to hand him the book. It was mostly drawings of the boys, maybe he wouldn’t look that far. 

...Spoiler alert, he looked that far. 

“...Is this me? Right back then, when I was sleeping?” 

“Uh-“

“You really made me look better than I’ve ever seen myself.” 

“Well, that’s how I see you,” Jack said before he could think about his words. Y’know, like a normal person who is trying to hide a massive crush that could end one of his best friendships. 

“Th-that’s… how you see me?” Davey was blushing now. Blushing. Not disgusted. 

“Uh… yeah. Y’see here, th-the moon behind ya, the way it… it focuses on you.” Jack said, kneeling by his chair and pointing to it. 

You are digging your own grave, Jack Kelly. 

“Jack, I… that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Davey was still blushing. He turned his face to Jack’s. He was so close… 

“Well… I draw what I think, Dave, ‘cause words… they ain’t my strong suit,” Jack chuckled, pulling back. But Davey leaned forward. 

“Your drawings don’t need words, Jack. But the artist of them… That is a man that deserves millions of words said about him.” 

“D-Davey… Don’t. Please, don’t do this,” Jack shook his head, standing back up. 

“Did I make you uncomfortable? I- I’m sorry, I thought that we-“ 

“No, David. You didn’t. That’s the exact issue! D-d’ya really think I want to end up breaking your heart? We… We can’t do this, ‘cause it’ll end with me hurting you just like I have a million people! And you don’t deserve that fate! You’re too good for me, David,” Jack might’ve been crying. He wasn’t sure. But he sure as hell was ranting. 

“Jack-“ 

“Don’t Jack me, don’t try to act like it could be any different. We know exactly how this is going to end, and I- I can’t stand losing you, Dave.” 

There was a moment of silence. It was obvious Davey was picking his next words carefully. 

“You won’t.” 

“How could you possibly know that?” 

“You won’t because I won’t let it, Jack Kelly. I won’t let you lose me as a friend, ever. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.” 

“Da-“ 

In two strides, Davey crossed the circle of chairs and shut Jack up with a kiss, half-crushing him with how tightly he was holding him. 

He did this… this thing that made it obvious this wasn’t his first kiss. The way he moved his head up and down just a little bit. The way he seemed all in but ready to pull away if they needed to at any second. 

But more than anything, there was a definitive Davey-ness to him that made it all perfect. 

So Jack had found one more reason to like nature. It was where he shared his first-ever kiss with his boyfriend, David Jacobs.

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Cuffing Language

*Daveed Diggs x Reader

*Summary: Daveed and Reader have known each other since high school and he invites her to a clipping. concert in Oakland.

*Warnings: Alcohol, swearing. Let me know if I missed anything.

*A/N: This was supposed to be posted back in October when I went to the clipping. show in Oakland but oops.

Outfit

**********

When you first met Daveed Diggs, you were the coaches’ assistant for your high school track team. You were a junior looking to beef up your college applications, and you knew having something to do with sports would make you look at least a little bit impressive, even if you weren’t actually on the team. You tended to just fetch things the team needed, or note down things the coaches were supposed to but didn’t want to. It was pretty easy, and you actually kind of had fun with your job.

You were doing your thing, passing out water bottles to the runners, when you first interacted with him. Even though a lot of the runners didn’t really know you personally, they at least recognized you. “Hey, Diggs, heads up,” you called out to him. He turned, and you tossed the water bottle to him.

“Thanks,” he said, drawing it out just enough so you knew he was searching for your name.

“(Y/n),” you provided.

“(Y/n),” he repeated. “I’d introduce myself, but you already know my name.”

“Yup, it comes with the job. Impressive times, by the way.”

“Thanks. You’re the coaching assistant, right?” You nodded, wanting to keep this conversation going (you couldn’t help it, he was incredibly cute), but then the assistant coach yelled for you to pass out the waters before the team had to get back to practice.

“Work calls,” you explained with a sheepish smile, picking up the box of water bottles. 

“We could talk after practice, if you want,” Daveed immediately offered, ducking his head with a shy smile as he waited for your response. In any other situation, you’d say he’d offered it a bit too quickly, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up like that. 

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” With that, you went back to work before the assistant coach could yell at you again. You didn’t want to overthink things too much; after all, you barely knew the guy. Surely there were completely innocent reasons for him wanting to talk to you a bit after practice. You were the coaches’ assistant, so he probably just reasoned that you’d be around practice a lot so he might as well get on your good side.

Once practice was over and you’d done all the clean up that the coach asked you to, you found Daveed waiting for you on the bleachers. Adjusting your backpack strap over your shoulder, you walked up to him with a smile. Even if it wasn’t a romantic interest, you knew you’d enjoy spending time with him either way.

**********

The two of you ended up clicking instantly. You weren’t necessarily sure if it was in the romantic way or just in a friend way, but you always had a great time when you hung out. The two of you were almost inseparable for the rest of his senior year, but eventually the time came for him to head off to college. You were torn on his last day: you were insanely proud of him for going to Brown, but you were going to miss him more than you’d care to admit. With a promise to stay in touch, the two of you parted ways for the first time.

Fast forward all these years, and you’d actually kept that promise. While you stayed in the Bay for college and work, you watched as Daveed did his own thing all over the country. Whenever he came back to Oakland, you’d drop whatever to hang out with him, and he did the same if you happened to be wherever he was at the moment. It was kind of crazy how you were actually able to keep in touch and stay friends for all these years; there were even friendships you had from college that didn’t keep in touch as well as Daveed.

When Daveed told you clipping. was doing shows again and they were having one in Oakland, you made sure you got the day of and the next day off. You wanted to utilize the time you had with him, especially since you didn’t know when you’d see him next. You absolutely loved the fact that he was successful, and you were insanely proud of him, but sometimes you just missed having your friend around. You’d never complain about it, especially not to Daveed, it was just something you’d dealt with for years.

When the day came, you couldn’t help the excitement that engulfed you. You danced around your apartment, blasting clipping. on the speakers as you went about the process. You’d already had your outfit picked out - with a backup just in case - for days, but as you were getting dressed you couldn’t help but second guess what you wanted to wear. After an hour of going through that mess, you finally decided to just wear the first outfit you’d picked out - a velvet slip dress and black thigh-high boots, with a black leather jacket in case you all decided to go out after the show. Once you dealt with that entire mess, you still had to put on your makeup and style your hair.

A quick Lyft ride over to the venue later and you found yourself on the upper balcony with a drink in hand, looking down over the stage. You recognized a few of Daveed’s other friends around the balcony, but you didn’t really know them well enough to hang out with them. You watched the DJ set, enjoying watching the DJ go through his box of records. You were bobbing along with the music when you heard a familiar voice behind you. “Am I going crazy or did (y/n) finally get a few days off work to come hang?”

When you turned, you couldn’t help your wide smile. Standing there, drink in his hand, was Daveed’s best friend, Rafa. Finally, someone you could hang out with during the show. “Rafa! Shit dude, how long has it been?” You said, immediately walking up and wrapping him in a hug as well as you could without spilling either of your drinks.

“Does Diggs know you came out?” Rafa asked, releasing you from the hug. Rafa had been just as busy as Daveed, and you missed hanging out with him just as much. When it was you and the boys, you always had a ton of fun just screwing around and doing whatever. The last time you had the opportunity to just hang out as a group was nearly a year ago.

“Of course, man, who do you think invited me?” you joked. “Speaking of Diggs, have you seen him yet?”

“Yeah, he’s doing his rounds.” With that, Rafa took your hand to drag you to, you assumed, wherever Daveed was. Sure enough, you spotted Daveed over the crowd. He had that bright smile that you always loved, a second later throwing his head back in laughter at whatever the people talking to him just said. You could feel the little goofy smile growing on your face at the sight of him, and Rafa didn’t miss it. “You still got that little crush on Diggs?”

“Man, shut up,” you laughed. 

“I’ll take that as a yes then,” Rafa teased but dropped the subject. You and Rafa stood off to the side for a bit, waiting for Diggs to finish his conversation. The two of you caught up a bit, talking about your respective work and personal lives. You insisted Rafa should let you watch his dog when he needed a sitter, but for some reason Rafa wasn’t down for it. While you were having this little playful argument, Daveed spotted the two of you. He excused himself from his conversation, making a beeline towards his two best friends.

Before you could argue further about Rafa letting you dogsit Mia, you were lifted off your feet and spun around in a hug. “Daveed, put me down!” you laughed, trying not to get too lost in the feel of being in his arms. It’d really been too long since the last time you’d seen him.

“(Y/n)! Look at you! Wow, babe, you look amazing,” Daveed said when he put you down, holding your hand to twirl you once.

“Babe?” you questioned his word choice with a raised brow. You could immediately see him get a bit shy, looking down and then focusing his attention on Rafa.

“I heard you say it too, Diggs,” Rafa decided to jump in on the teasing. You could have sworn you heard Daveed swear lightly under his breath. He was cornered.

“You know, that’s some cuffing language right there,” you added. 

“Is it?” Daveed asked, replacing his shy smile with a small smirk. He figured he couldn’t win arguing he hadn’t called you babe, but he could bring you down that road with him. You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the heat rushing to your face at his not-so-subtle flirtation. “You look really nice, (y/n). I mean it.”

“Thanks, Diggs, you don’t look too bad yourself.” You ducked your head, trying to avoid seeing whatever his reaction would be. Rafa looked between the two of you before clearing his throat, drawing the attention back to him.

“So are y’all finally gonna get together or what?” Rafa asked bluntly. Immediately you and Daveed started stuttering out excuses and denials, much to Rafa’s pleasure. It wasn’t until you saw the wicked smirk on Rafael’s face that you finally realized he was just fucking with you guys. Once the realization hit you, you couldn’t help but throw up your middle finger in his direction, which he of course found hilarious.

“So, plots?” You asked, trying to change the topic. You really didn’t need Rafael spilling about the crush you’d had on Diggs since high school, even though you were pretty sure you didn’t do that good of a job of hiding it. If you guys started talking about plans for after the concert, you were sure you’d be able to get Rafael to stop talking about the whole thing. Well, for now at least. 

“I vote we do drinks at (y/n)’s place,” Daveed immediately offered.

“Sounds good to me,” Rafael agreed.

“Wait, excuse me?” You asked, taken off guard by the offering of your place.

“Hey, you asked for plots, we gave them,” Daveed laughed. “Two out of three, we’re doing drinks at your place.”

“We’re gonna have to stop somewhere then, all I have at my place is like two beers and a bottle of wine,” you complained. Your complaints were only half-hearted; you were going to agree to whatever plans they suggested, even though you didn’t have anything in your place to really have a night of drinking. Sure, everyone going to your place wasn’t ideal, but you’d deal with it to be able to hang out with your friends again.

“I’ll cover the alcohol then,” Rafael offered. “We can stop by my place, I know I have some stuff.”

“Why don’t we just go to your place then?”

“No, we already agreed on your place,” Daveed said, shaking his finger. Before anything else could be said, someone came up to Daveed and tapped him on the shoulder before whispering something to him. You could see the flash of worry cross Daveed’s face, and you and Rafael shared a look. The person left your group, and you gave Daveed a questioning look. “One of the openers got sick, so I need to go with the guys to see what we’re gonna do about it.”

“Shit, yeah, go deal with that. Just find us after the show,” you told him.

“Yeah, man, I’ll keep an eye on (y/n),” Rafael joked, throwing an arm around your shoulders. You missed the look that crossed Daveed’s face when he did that, but Rafa didn’t. Once again Rafa had that wicked smile on his face, but this time you had no idea why. Before you could question it, Daveed already began making his way to wherever the openers were at.

**********

As the night continued, you really enjoyed yourself. The DJ ended up playing a double set while Daveed and them tried to figure out what to do, but you liked having the chance to really catch up with Rafa while everything was going on. The second clipping. was on the stage, though, your attention was completely on them. You loved watching Daveed perform: the way the normally shy man was completely in his element made you feel something you couldn’t quite name. It was a mixture of immense pride and attraction, but you couldn’t say that last part out loud.

When the show finally finished, it was already nearing midnight. You silently praised your past self for taking the next day off too, knowing that if you hadn’t, you would’ve had to call in sick instead. With the way the three of you got when you were together, you weren’t expecting to go to sleep until the sun was up. You and Rafa chilled by the bar while Diggs did his final rounds, talking to some fans and other people he knew, talking about the plans for the rest of the night. As far as the two of you were concerned, you’d get some food, get the booze from Rafa’s place, and then head back to your place to really catch up.

As soon as Daveed was done, he herded you and Rafa into the hired car they had for him. You teased him about having that ‘movie money’ now, being too good for that ride share and public transport lifestyle you lived. He took it all in stride, even when Rafa jumped in like he wasn’t getting that Nickelodeon money. The three of you actually followed the plan, getting pizza from a local place and then picking up the alcohol. When Rafa ran out to get the liquor, you and Daveed sat in the car, alone for the first time all night. “You know I’m just teasing, right?” You asked, suddenly feeling bad about your money jokes.

“Yeah, (y/n), I know. So, what’s new in your life? You got a little boyfriend now or something exciting?” Daveed asked, redirecting the conversation.

“Nah, work keeps me busy these days. I’m trying to convince Rafa to let me dog sit Mia and that’s the most exciting thing going on now.” You laughed, though you couldn’t help but internally question Diggs choice of conversation. “How about you? Don’t act like I don’t see you running around with that one girl on your Instagram. What’s going on there?”

You didn’t mean to make it sound accusatory, but it sure came out that way. It was like you were accusing him of running around behind your back, even if you meant for it to be a joke. You knew exactly who ‘that one girl’ was, but you didn’t want to make it seem too obvious you were keeping tabs on him. As far as you knew, they were together but not publicly. It wasn’t like you saw Diggs often enough to actually meet his girlfriend if they weren’t public. You were brought out of your thoughts when Daveed laughed. It wasn’t that full-bodied laughter that you loved, rather a smaller, more nervous one. “Yeah, nah, that’s Emmy. She’s a good friend, but I don’t really see her like that.”

You nodded, not sure where to go with the conversation from here. While you and Daveed had a friendship where comfortable silences happened, this wasn’t one of them. You never really found yourself at a complete loss for words before. Before the quiet could turn unbearable, it was broken by the sound of Rafa smacking his hand on the roof of the car. “Diggs, unlock this shit! It’s cold out here!”

From Rafa’s, the three of you headed back to your place. As soon as you were through the door, you opened the pizza box Daveed was carrying and stole a slice, ignoring the protests from the guys. 

The night continued about as chill as you could be hanging out with your friends. The three of you caught up, even though it was more like you were catching up with what was going on in Daveed and Rafa’s lives than they were with each other. As you all told stories, you knew your voices were getting louder until it reached the point of everyone trying to talk over one another. It wasn’t like anyone was arguing or anything - you all just got loud when you were together, and adding in drinks didn’t help make the situation any quieter.

It was around three in the morning when you all decided to call it a night. Out of the three of you, you were definitely doing the best. While you tried to figure out what to do to get the boys home, you looked over at Daveed and Rafa on the couch. Diggs looked like he was all of three seconds away from passing out where he sat, while Rafa was talking to him, definitely more aware than his friend. You didn’t think Diggs would be okay on his own, so you figured you’d just let him crash on your couch for the night.

“Hey, Rafa,” you called out, getting the man’s attention. He looked up and nodded at you. “Are you good if I call a Lyft for you? Like you think you’ll be able to make it to your place and not die or mess up my rating?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. What’re you gonna do about Diggs though?” Rafa asked, tilting his head towards the other man.

“I’m thinking he’ll just sleep it off here,” you told him. “He seems pretty gone.”

“I’m still right here,” Daveed said, raising his hand slightly. “I can hear what y’all are saying.”

“Yeah but you’re like half asleep already,” you said. “Unless you wanna head back to wherever you’re staying.”

“Nah, I’m good here,” he said, leaning his head back to rest it on the back of the couch. “I’m ready to sleep.”

You rolled your eyes before turning your attention back to Rafa. “Alright, when do you wanna head out?”

“Whenever you order the car for me,” Rafa told you. You nodded, already loading up the Lyft app so you could get him a ride home. As soon as you confirmed his driver, Rafa started grabbing his things, even though he didn’t bring much to begin with. Once he was near you, though, that’s when he took the opportunity to pull you into a conversation. Rafa took one last look at Diggs to make sure he wasn’t paying attention before he started talking. “Trying to get me out of here so you can have Diggs to yourself, huh?”

“What’re you talking about?” You asked, trying to ignore the heat you immediately felt in your face.

“I get it, you can’t make your move while I’m around,” he continued his teasing. Well, you thought it was teasing. You sure hoped it was teasing. “Just make sure you kids are safe. We don’t need little Diggs babies running around.”

“How long until your ride gets here again?” You asked, looking at your phone. The driver was still five minutes away. It was meant to be a joke, but if you actually had to put up with Rafa’s incessant teasing for five more minutes, you might just lose it. He was the only one you’d actually admitted your crush to, and he was really pushing it tonight. “Man can you chill it?” You asked, stealing a look at Daveed.

“Chill, he’s practically asleep. He’s not paying attention to us.” Rafa laughed at your pained look, trying to get you to look back at him. “Listen, I’m just messing with you, dude. But if you and Diggs end up together or something, I’m rooting for you.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen, man. I’ve been into him since high school, if anything would’ve happened, don’t you think it would’ve happened by now?” You asked, keeping your voice low.

“Trust me, (y/n), there are some things you don’t know about him,” Rafa replied. Before you could ask what he meant, your phone lit up with the notification that your driver was approaching soon.

“Alright, I’ll walk you down to the car,” you said, trying to ignore his vagueness. “Diggs, you cool to stay here if I walk Rafa down?” 

Rather than actually answering, Diggs just mumbled something as he proceeded to curl in on himself a little bit. You rolled your eyes and grabbed your keys, nodding to Rafa for the two of you to leave. Getting Rafa into the Lyft with a promise to text you when he was back didn’t take long, and before you knew it, you were back up in your apartment. Diggs was passed out on the couch, but you felt bad looking at him trying to fit his entire body on the small couch. You walked over and shoved his shoulder. “C’mon, Diggs, let’s get you to bed.”

“‘M fine here,” Daveed groaned, slowly blinking awake.

“No, you’re not. You can sleep in my bed and I’ll take the couch,” you said, pulling him to his feet. He stumbled a bit, and you struggled to support him. “C’mon, just walk with me.”

Daveed seemed to be just aware enough to help you out, walking with you as you led him to your room. You helped him to your bed, content to just let him pass out while you went back to clean up before falling asleep on the couch. “Wait,” Daveed called just as you turned to leave.

“Yeah?” You asked, going to stand beside him. Daveed surprised you by tugging you down to lay in bed next to him. “Do you need something?”

“Nah, I just missed you,” Diggs mumbled, pulling you into his hold. If you weren’t sobered up before, you definitely were now. “I don’t like being away from you, never did.”

“Yeah, Diggs, I missed you too,” you said, biting back your hopes and figuring this was platonic.

“No, like, I really missed you. I wanted you with me, sleeping with me like this.” With that, Diggs cuddled himself further into you, which was a little ridiculous considering the size difference. “I kept thinkin’ you’d finally found some guy to keep you busy cuz I was too slow to say anything.”

“What’re you talking about?” You finally decided to ask him. He was half asleep and drunk, and you knew you could actually talk about this tomorrow, but a drunk Diggs was a brutally honest Diggs. You knew that from experience.

“I don’t want you with Rafa or some other dude-“

“Wait, Rafa?” You couldn’t help but cut him off. You were pretty sure you’d never shown any interest in Rafa, especially since you weren’t attracted to him. 

“Yeah, didn’t like the way he had his arm around you. I thought he was gonna make a move on my girl to get me to do something like he said he would,” Diggs whined, pressing his face to the crook of your neck. “Can’t even say you’re my girl, but I want you to be.”

“Daveed, you don’t know what you’re saying,” you tried arguing with him, even though you didn’t do anything to stop the physical contact.

“No, I do. I’ve wanted you to be my girl for a while now.”

“Diggs, go to sleep and we’ll talk about this in the morning when you’re sober, okay?”

Daveed hummed his agreement, but once you moved to get up, he pulled you close once again. “Stay with me, please.”

You wanted to argue, but you knew you couldn’t deny him. So instead, you relaxed into his hold and responded in a near whisper that you weren’t even sure he heard. “I’ll stay.”

**********

When you woke up the next morning, you were immediately aware of the solid weight of Daveed’s arm around your waist. You were still cuddled with him, his chest pressed against your back as he nearly curled around you in his sleep. His breaths were still deep, so you knew he was still out. You moved slowly, trying your hardest not to wake him up. Once you were out of his hold, you made your way to the kitchen, figuring food would help ease the conversation the two of you needed to have.

You were brewing coffee when Daveed finally walked out of your room. You pushed a mug in his direction, and he took it with a grateful smile. “So, you’re awake. You remember anything from last night?”

“I remember pizza and drinks but not much after I started falling asleep,” Daveed admitted. “I kinda remember Rafa leaving?”

“Alright, well that makes this a little bit more difficult,” you said, looking down at your own mug. You decided to turn to your fridge, looking for something to make as you tried to figure out your next words. Once you found something, you turned back around to find Daveed staring at you expectantly.

“Makes what a little bit more difficult?”

“Alright, well, last night you said some stuff when I was putting you to bed. You probably don’t remember, but I feel like we still gotta talk about it,” you explained.

“What did I say?” Daveed asked. If he wasn’t nervous before, he definitely was now. He was avoiding eye contact now, his coffee suddenly becoming the most interesting thing in the world.

“Well, first it started out with you saying you missed me-”

“Yeah, you’re one of my best friends, of course I missed you.”

“Yeah, but do you tell all your friends you want them to be your girl? And you’ve wanted them to be your girl for a while?” You asked. You were even kind of shocked by how forward that was. You were expecting to dance around the subject for a little while until Diggs finally dragged it out of you, but here you were, addressing the issue fully in the form of a half-joke.

“What?”

“You heard what I said.”

“(Y/n), I’m so sorry,” he said after a pause. You felt your heart break a little at the apology. Of course he didn’t mean it; he was drunk, tired, and just saying things. Checking the time on your phone, you wondered how long you could stand this before it wouldn’t be considered rude to ask him to leave. “I didn’t mean to tell you-”

“Yeah, I kinda figured,” you interrupted him.

“Like that,” he continued anyways. Now it was your turn to pause.

“Wait, what?”

“I mean, I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while now, I just didn’t expect it to be like that. You know, so this wouldn’t happen,” he explained. “Yeah, I like you, and I want you to be my girl. I just really hope this doesn’t make things different.”

“Diggs, no matter what this changes things at least a little,” you started. You could feel the heat rising in your face, the change in conversation not something you’d expected. You’d wanted this to happen since high school, and now that it was, it was kind of unbelievable. “But I’d like to be your girl, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It’s not going to be easy, especially since we’re both so busy.”

“I know what I’m getting into. I’ve known you for how many years now?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Daveed said with a small smile. “Am I allowed to stay for food?”

“Yes, you’re allowed to stay,” you told him, trying not to let him see your own smile. “I think we should talk more about all of this anyways.”

“As long as you’re my girl, I’m fine with whatever we need to talk about,” Daveed said, walking over to you and bringing you into a hug. You stayed there for a second, enjoying the feeling. You didn’t know exactly what the two of you would talk about, but you had a feeling it would involve a lot more cuffing language.

**********

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness

[pumpkin-lith]

Clone Wars Saved...ish

What the hell did I just watch ?

Let’s start by saying that 1) spoilers alert, not necessarily coherent but definitely there, I’ll put on a read more, but unspoiled mobile users, just in case it fails, scroll by and 2) @norcumii had warned me. And yet I didn’t quite expect that because, how could more clones ever be bad !

Oh boy.

Thanks to @shadow-spires for being my emotional support watchbuddy. I needed it more than I thought I would and we’re only three episodes in.

Some context : I’ve watched... only a few episodes of the show before, despite probably being able to give you the plot of all 6 seasons and quote lines and scenes, thanks tumblr and my own love for clones. And I hadn’t really looked at the bad batch half-rendered episodes because I still had trouble with the graphics of the actually finished show, so...

But I was ready for this, for feels, for finding Echo again and, finally, get 66 and murdered by Dave Filoni. Set up a meeting time to watch some eps with shadowspires, fun when there is a twelve hours diff between us and here we go.

Let me tell you, there was a lot of yelling in all caps in the chat side bar...

Trying to keep mostly in order of the episodes :

- WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO KIX’S HAIR ? Why ? Why hair and no more tattoo ??? Is this supposed to be red corsair continuity ? But then WHY IS HE HERE AND NOT ALREADY ABDUCTED ? Is this merch reasons ?

- Two seconds in and WOW I hate the Bad Batch. And this does NOT get better. I’m really tired of the Muscle is Dumb trope, Tech is like a human C3PO which urgh but fine but then KEEP CONSTANT (this is going to be a major point of my yelling), if Hunter says you chatter all the time THEN DO but no, we won’t here a single random fact ever again for three episodes, and Crosshairs chats and snarks a LOT for someone ‘not talkative’. 

- Regs. FUCKING REGS, urgh, I hated that word the INSTANT it was said. Canon isn’t as heavily into the Vode An fanon loves, but WOW fuck that. Strike team or not, you’re not supermen, you have to rely on intel, be supplied, you’re not a bunch of mercenaries, you’re a MILITARY STRIKE TEAM, you must interact with regs a lot so it means you’re a bunch of condescending assholes ALL THE TIME.

-Also fuck 1) that team’s dynamics and 2) the “two teams do not get along” trope, fuck it with a SHOVEL.  1) You’re a Commando Team. In an army three years deep into war. You’re comrades and probably have save each other asses hundred of times. So why can’t you behave ? And I know people do not always get along, or even best friends sometimes irk each other, but, look, consistency, if you think you’re with lesser people because regs (can you tell I’m not over that either), you present a united front and you don’t bitch at your teammates in front of them. 2) YOU ARE MILITARY. Trained for 10+ years, there’s DISCIPLINE there, even a maverick strike team, when Cody is down, you OBEY THE SECOND IN COMMAND. I don’t care if you have a better plan, you TELL the officer, you don’t just tell him to shut up and watch. AND YOU DON’T GET AT EACH OTHER’S THROATS.

-Did I mention I hate everything about Dumb Violent Muscles unable to control himself or follow a plan ?

-Of course the one time we could see Cody in charge, he’s hurt and useless.

-WHY. IS. THE MEDIC. GOSSIPING. INSTEAD OF KEEPING WATCH OVER THE WOUNDED BROTHER ???

AND WHY DOES HE HAVE HAIR DAMMIT

-The tactics Mess out of order :  Why is nobody blowing stuff up, a group able to single handedly take on 100+ droids is getting pushed back by thirty later on, why not trap the outpost to blow up the incoming droids, the analytical droid cannot comprehend why the clones would leave the outpost while in full view of the cyber center and it has to be pointed out to him, WHY DID NOBODY TRAP THE FUCKING OUTPOST TO BLOW, why does the tech guy LITERALLY NAMED TECH doesn’t hide/erase what they did to the computer, why if he didn’t have time DIDN’T HE BLOW UP THE COMPUTER. 

-And for a plot point being “droids analyzes our tactics so we always have to change them”, it means that no one ever attacked a front door and drew all the droids there for a second team to sneak by the back door. Somehow.

Ep2 & 3 :

- Why is “this may or may not be Echo” matters on a tactical PoV ? I get the emotional one, of course, but having the Bad Batch question it at the beginning and later on starting a fight over it has no other reason than to go for another round of We Do Not Get Along Trope. The Seps have either a PoW or an Algorhythm allowing them to win battle, no matter what it is, you have to go and rescue/take it. WHY ARE YOU ARGUING.

- I know this is the funny part of ‘Anakin and Padmé are the less subtle ever’ and it was funny (I didn’t hate ALL of the episodes, see ?), but why is she explaining to Anakin why he fights three years into the war other than reminding the public, this is the LEAST EFFECTIVE PLAN ever to hide from Obi-Wan with Rex obviously standing guard.

-Not a critic, just fucking amused : if someone isn’t aware that Padmé and Anakin are a thing, there is a lot of subtext to thing Anakin and Rex have a hidden fling. I don’t even ship it and I could see it x)

- Tell Padmé I say hello. TELL PADME I SAY HELLO. Obi-Wan fucking KNOWS, maybe not the whole “married and pregnant” but hellooooo that was blantant cue that he’s aware they’re together, at the very least so very close friends that they sneak private calls during a siege if Anakin is really dense, we have ONSCREEN PROOF that Obi-Wan SAID OUT LOUD something about it and it makes Anakin thinking Obi-Wan doesn’t know and couldn’t understand in RotS even STUPIDER. Good job Anakin.

- This Galaxy has the most efficient Google Translate ever. Either it’s a known language of the planet you’re going to, and then by doing research amidst the prep to go to the planet everyone or at least Rex as Captain would put the translator to the spoken languages there on his helmet, or it’s an unknown one and yet with two sentences, Tech’s tech (urgh) is able to translate and analyses it well enough to speak it back to them. Wow. 

- WHY. IS. THE. JEDI. NOT. USING. THE. FORCE. You’ve worked with Echo before but there’s no mention or even trying to feel him, fine, better have another fight of whether or not he’s truly here, two droids manage to get the drop on you, two droids manage to get the drop on you AND SOMEHOW AREN’T IMMEDIATELY BISECTED, Two droids manage to get the drop on you, survive, AND GIVE YOU ENOUGH TROUBLE YOU NEED SOMEONE TO SHOOT ONE TO GET OUT OF IT. 

- Echo, my poor baby TnT I knew this was going to hurt, and it does, it does so much. 

-And we’re RIGHT BACK to full on rage rather fast. We go from “he’s so weak he can’t walk, he doesn’t remember anything after the Citadel, he’s so out of it he doesn’t know where he is and ‘notices’ Rex being here two or three times” to “He can walk, he can be yeeted into a vent, he can tightpole walk, he can shoot while standing, he knows the whole base’s blueprints and also all the Separatist’s database.” in like. Five minutes. CONSITENCY FOR FUCK’S SAKE. Why is no one carrying him, why don’t we even get a fucking HUG ?

-Why was everyone yeeted by Dumb Muscles WHEN WE HAVE A JEDI HERE. WHY STILL NO FORCE ??? Clone-yeeting is like Anakin’s favorite pastime, he should have thought of it FIRST, My Moment Has Come.

- Oh FUCK NO. WHY did you even GO BACK TO THE NATIVES’ VILLAGE ? You got dragons, you fly back to your ship that wasn’t damaged in anyway, you evac fast and clean, DONE ! Why go back ? Anakin even says that the Techno Union will strike for helping them BUT UNTIL YOU WENT BACK THEY DIDN’T KNOW THE NATIVES HELPED YOU ! They had no problems until now ! DON’T INVOLVE CIVILIANS ! If they had gone with the plot point of having the natives pick a side and be the ones to save them from that pole by flying to get them, then yes, totally, stay and help and defend them against the retaliation massacre ! But since they didin’t, do NOT go there and draw to them a retaliation massacre.

-FUCK that speech. Sorry Rex, but FUCK THAT. Again, civilians. You are supposed to be the GOOD GUYS trying to STOP THE WAR, not draw innocents into it when it could be avoided. AND THEN LEAVE WHEN YOU JUST TOOK DOWN ONE ATTACK AND THE TECHNO UNION WILL SURELY COME WIPE OUT THAT VILLAGE FOR HELPING YOU AND THERE’LL BE NO JEDI TO SAVE THE DAY.

-Why is everyone suddenly dumb.

-Fuck that “good old days” bullshit. I’m sure there were good times, but your good old days are three years of war and losses. Gimme “now everything will be alright”, because for once someone survived, for once the future is looking hopeful, give me them hoping that it’ll be okay and then gut me with the sheer irony of it all because I know 66 is looming. AND FUCKING HUG HIM DAMMIT, he was almost catatonic thirty minutes ago, at least HELP HIM into the ship rather than leave him standing here alone.

-And no mention of Fives, of course. Idk it may be in episode 4, it BETTER be in Episode 4, otherwise this is “it be like the good old days, yay, btw Fives’ dead”.

I am SO ready for the damn Bad Batch arc to be over and hoping the actual original content is way better. I wished they had scrapped that disaster of an idea full of bad clichés. You want a strike team to go with Rex ? I’ve got a strike team for you : Jesse is an ARC, Kix is both a medic and seen many times with a rifle (AND THE COOLEST HAIRCUT, get us Bly there and give him a tracking speciality with the many ‘primitive’ planets he was on, and we have Aayla for the muscle. That would be badass.