#found it again last night and finally got enough of my shit together to finish it today lmf

[byanyan]

"I posted bail. C'mon, let's go home." listen it popped into my skull

ㅤㅤ" you—? "ㅤthe question dies on their tongue before they can finish it. from there, their mouth closes, then opens again. this repeats a few times, but no further sound ever comes out. in the end, they keep it closed and simply nod. rising from their seat (they hadn't been shoved into a cell this time, thank god. probably because it's been a busy night in the station and they're the only minor in here. for once, the cops weren't complete assholes), they grab for their discarded sweater and begin following close on lena's tail.

an odd sense of guilt gnaws at them from somewhere in the pit of their stomach. they don't know why, since it's not like they asked lena to come down here and bail them out. in fact, when offered their phone call, they'd downright refused it. " i got no one t' call, " they'd said, right before spitting at the officer's feet.

...she doesn't seem thrilled about it, but she came. she's here. she's spent her own damn money to get them out of here, and byan... isn't sure of how to feel about it. isn't sure of what to say. trailing along a step or two behind at lena's side, they remain silent, anxious hands twisting the hoodie they hold in front of themself like it's the only thing on earth keeping them grounded in this moment.

out the doors, down the steps; the chilly night air nips at the exposed skin of their arms, but still byan just keeps twisting and turning and pulling at their sweater.

ㅤㅤ" didn't hafta do that. "ㅤa proper sentence is finally muttered once they're about a block away from the station, their gaze fixed on the sidewalk.ㅤ" i was 'boutta make a break for it. "ㅤa lie. they'd certainly been contemplating it, had perhaps been biding their time until the moment was right, but it wasn't something that would have happened in the next moment had lena not shown up.ㅤ" woulda been fine on my own. "

why? the question sits on the tip of their tongue, begging to be asked — why come down here? why waste your cash? why? — but byan swallows it down again and again, shaking their head in visible frustration.

ㅤㅤ" 'f you're plannin' on holdin' this over my head 'n usin' it as leverage for somethin', it ain't gonna work. "ㅤit's the only possible reason they can think of that lena would have done this, the only reason anyone had ever willingly bailed them out before. the thought brings an added heat to their voice, raising it from their previous mutter. they can feel a faint sting in the corner of their eyes, which only angers them further.

ㅤㅤ" i didn't ask for ya to come down here. i didn't ask for your help! "

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love. 

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 25.

Xilä is my own creation.

WAIT! Please note this part contains time skips.

~

Part 21 - Epilogue

‘Xilä’s in labor.’

‘My wife is about to have my kid.’

‘Holy shit, my kid. Mine…’

‘I’m going to be a father.’

‘Fuck, I don’t know if I can do this.’

To say Neteyam was freaking out was putting it mildly and- Oh fuck. His damn father-in-law was walking towards him. The last thing he wanted was for the man to see him like this. 

The first time Neteyam had a full conversation with Jxo, he was ten years old. 

To him, Jxo had always been a man of very few words. He never smiled, hated small talk and was extremely intimidating. But he was also incredibly respected throughout the entire clan, and well, Salveen liked him a lot, and so did bossy D’avi, so those were good enough reasons for the ten year old to think him alright. 

Being the chief’s son brought its fair share of challenges. There was a time when a group of boys tried to bully him over his “golden boy” status. Neteyam had fought back- and lost. 

He was ten, and a mess after. And instead of returning home, he ran to Sal’s but she’d already gone to the kitchens that evening. 

Jxo, seeing his cuts and bruises beckoned him in and silently cleaned his injuries- a split lip, swollen cheek, scraped knees and bloody knuckles. 

And when the man finally asked, “What happened?” 

Neteyam broke down and sobbed. He was hysterical and mad at himself for not being strong, mad that he was even crying. He was a man for Eywa sake! A soldier! A warrior! Just like his dad. 

But that day he was grateful that Jxo didn’t treat him like a silly kid- like everyone else did. Jxo calmed him. He was his usual gruff self and spoke to him straight. Treated him like an equal and imparted words of advice Neteyam needed to hear.  

Flash forward to fifteen years later, on the night that he would become a father for the first time, Neteyam was hysterical just like that very day. 

Xilä’s water had only broken half an hour ago and Neteyam was spiralling- or freaking out as his visiting brother had been teasing. Irritated and short tempered, he snapped at anyone who got too close to his mate who had been slowly pacing up and down the interior of the Tsahìk’s tent while her birthing room was being prepared. 

And just like he did fifteen years ago, Jxo and his no nonsense- never one to beat around the bush, pulled him outside and called him an idiot- a skxawng, telling him he needed to to get his shit together and stop snarling and hissing at everyone like a “fucking palulukan”. 

When he’d finished telling him off, he blew out a breath then continued- far gentler or as gentle the man could be, parting fatherly words of wisdom and advice with a comforting hand clasped on his shoulder. 

Neteyam humbled himself and took it all in, and by the end he felt lighter, calmer and far more level headed. 

With a final, “Don’t fuck it up. She needs you. So get in there, skxawng,” the soon to be father chuckled with a brisk nod, thanked the elder and headed towards his wife. 

~

“Swear I’ve gone back twenty-five years,” Jake murmured in disbelief at his grandson in his arms. “He looks just like you did, son.” 

Neytiri hastily wiped a tear that escaped her as she too stared transfixed. 

“He’s got Xi’s eyes,” Neteyam announced proudly as he lingered closely. 

“And her ears,” his mother noted with another sniffle. “He’s beautiful.” Neytiri gently stroked Sprout’s little fist. “Jake, you've had him long enough. It is my turn again,” she bossed her husband. 

Passed over to his grandmother, their baby made a soft sound. He whined and twisted slightly before settling back into sleep.

Jxo pressed another kiss to the top of his daughter’s head as she rested against his shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, darling,” her father told her for the third time since their parents were let in. “You did good.” 

Sal nodded in agreement, her own eyes swimming in happy tears as she tucked a few of Xi’s braids behind her ear and continued to fuss over her- pouring her another cup of tea to help with the pain. 

Xilä was exhausted but yet a soft smile still graced her face as she watched their parents meet their son for the first time. Jxo was the first to hold him after he’d greeted her with quiet words of praise. And just like Mo’at did, when she eased her son into her father’s arms, she didn’t miss the way his eyes glistened. 

The entire moment was heartwarming, yet slightly comical to a degree. She grinned as she watched her husband hover protectively, scrutinizing every move any of them made as they held their child. 

Even when Jake huffed amused, stating, “You know I had four of you right? I think I know how to hold a baby,” even then Neteyam didn’t care, he still fretted and lectured and adjusted their holds. 

“Oh Eywa, you’re going to be a father just like my Jxo, aren’t you?” Sal chuckled and gently adjusted her grandson with the unnecessary aid of her son-in-law who had told her for the third time to, “Watch his head.” 

“Huh?” Neteyam asked, baffled, the same time Jxo released a noise of offence. 

“Yes, yes. He never liked anyone holding our D’avi. So protective he was.” She hummed wistfully at the memory, eyes never leaving the little one who had taken hold of her finger. “You are so sweet, yes you are. Hi. Hi,” she whispered softly as he blinked up at her, waking from his doze. 

“This does not surprise me,” Neytiri chimed in. “Neteyam was never very good at sharing the things he loves. Xilä, and now our grandson will be included as well I’m afra- Oh Sal, look at his eyes.” 

“Mom!” 

But she ignored him since her and Sal’s attention laid solely on baby Sprout who was yawning, tiny body stretching in Sal’s hold.

“We’d be lucky if we ever get to see the kid,” Jake said, joining in on the teasing. “Knowing our son, he’d keep them locked away.”

Neytiri frowned at this. “My sweet Xi, you won’t let him hide the two of you away all the time, yes? I would like to see my grandson whenever I so pl-”

“Mom. Of course you’d get to see him.” Then after a long pause Neteyam continued with, “But there will be boundaries, and Xilä and I would expect that you all would… respect them.” 

Jake covered his grin of amusement behind his fist and Jxo hid his in Xi’s hair- both men’s eyes automatically cutting to their wives who both had identical looks of indignation. In their heads Neteyam might as well just said they weren’t allowed to see their grandson… ever.

The women looked about ready to protest, but in the end they gave their agreement without so much as a peep. Neytiri however did reach out and pull her son- who was twice her size- into a hug with a, “Eywa, my baby is all grown up now.” 

“Can I have him, mother?” Xi was itching to have her son back in her arms. It hadn’t been long but she missed him already. 

Neteyam was the one to pass him over. His palm found Xi’s nape, thumb stroking her cheek as he stole a kiss from her, uncaring of their audience. 

Sprout stretched with another yawn, fingers opening then curling back up before he nosed at her chest instinctively, cooing a tiny fuss as his legs kicked out. 

Xi tossed a thin cloth over shoulder, covering herself and the babe. She bared one breast and guided him to her nipple. Her baby latched eagerly, little mouth suckling with gusto. 

She knew it was probably a bit silly to want privacy since it was a natural thing to nurse one’s baby in the open. But she wasn’t there quite yet. 

Eyes closed, she listened to the quiet conversation around her and leaned heavily on her husband who curled around her. 

“What have you decided to name him?” Jxo asked his son-in-law. “Have you chosen yet?

Xilä felt smiling lips against her forehead. 

“Zyden. Our son’s name is Zyden.” 

~

Neteyam made his way towards the lively activity at the southern border of the clan- eyes roaming quickly to take in every inch of the scene. 

The mission fleet that had just returned were being aided- travel packs and goods were unloaded while ikran wranglers steadied the restless mountain beasts. 

After being months apart, riders were greeted with open arms by their waiting families and judging by the ease of their smiling faces, Neteyam breathed a small sigh of relief that there seemed to be no pressing worries. 

Tasam who’d led said mission was already talking to the chief. Jake nodded at whatever it was he’d said then clapped him on the shoulder before making his way towards another warrior. 

Neteyam had missed Tasam, he realized. Seeing him after so long filled him with nostalgia, and the memory of them meeting for the first time on their very first day of Iknimaya training played in his mind. 

“‘Teyam! You look good, brother,” Tasam called out. He met him halfway, crooked smile wide at the sight of his comrade and friend. “Fatherhood suits you.”

Neteyam couldn’t hide his pride as they clasped arms in greeting. “Tasam, welcome home. My son… Zyden,” he introduced, titling so that Tasam had a better view of the three month old strapped to his chest. 

A soft swear word escaped Tasam when he saw the baby. He reached out and ran a knuckle along the back of Sprout’s hand in amazement. “He favors your looks.” 

Zyden’s wide silver eyes tracked Tasam’s hand. He cooed loudly then promptly shoved his little fist against his mouth, making sucking sounds as he drooled all over his knuckles.

“I can’t believe I missed so much. How’s Xi? The birth went well?”

“It did, thank Eywa and she’s great. Tired but great.”

Tasam grinned at his friend’s expression. Neteyam was a hardass and as serious as they came. He always seemed to wear a mask of impassiveness that was near impossible to discern most days. Today however, the mask was nowhere to be seen. 

“It’s good to see you this happy.”

“Eywa has bountifully blessed me, how could I not be?” He jerked his head, gesturing for them to walk onwards, a large protective palm resting beneath Zyden. “Tell me, how was the trip? I’m sorry we missed you before you left. I didn’t know you’d be gone so long.”

“I share the same sentiments. As for the trip, it was… interesting. The Sarentu clan… they’re in a bad way. The couple months we stayed we managed to make some good changes, but they still need all the help they can get. I’m hoping another fleet can ride out before the end of the week.”

“It’s that bad?” 

“Their clan is but a fraction of ours and they’re unable to help themselves properly. They have maybe five- six, capable hunters?” he said exasperated. “The clan is exposed. Not enough warriors to provide protection. Not enough hunters to provide food. It is a wonder they have survived this long.”

Neteyam considered his words. “It is things like this that make me glad my father reached out and started this entire initiative. Their chief said as much back at Awa’atlu. He came mainly in the hope that would help.”

With the nearest cluster of communities in sight, Tasam slowed his stroll causing Neteyam to do the same. 

During their walk the father had kept periodically checking in on his son who seemed settled and content against him. Looking down, he saw that Zyden’s eyelids were slowly drooping, little mouth quivering in his sleep as though he were feeding. 

“Do you think Kiri would like bellsprigs? As a gift I mean… It's kind of rare here but bountiful near this clearing I found back at Sarentu.”

The sudden topic change had Neteyam blinking in confusion. 

“Um, sure? I think she’d like them. Wait, aren't those extremely dangerous to harvest?”

“They are- were,” Tasan held up his palm showing off a deep gash that was still healing, “but it’s Kiri. I’d do anything for her.” 

“Huh… You really like her, don’t you?” He got no response and halted, noting his friend was no longer walking beside him. “What is it?” 

“I-” Tasam looked uncomfortable now and was no longer meeting his gaze. “I-” He hesitated again and rubbed at his brow, frowning deeply, almost as if he’d forgotten what he was supposed to say. 

“Tas-”

“I wish for your permission to court Kiri,” he rushed out. 

A long uncomfortable silence proceeded before Neteyam found his voice again. “You- uh, well why are you asking me? Shouldn’t you be asking my parents?”

“I’m planning on it. I asked the chief if I could meet with him and your mother after I give my full report tomorrow,” he scratched his neck, “I suppose he knows what I’m going to ask. Your father gave me this weird, blank look then sort of reluctantly agreed… But I- you see…”

It was jarring and almost amusing to Neteyam to see his friend so scatterbrained and fidgety. Was he… nervous? Shit, he was.

“What I’m trying and evidently failing to say here, is- I care for your sister. She has my whole heart and… and although you are my commanding officer and my future chief and I have the highest of respect for you… You’re also my closest friend, and as Kiri’s brother, I’d very much like to have your permission in addition to your parents’.”

Eywa. Neteyam really wished his mate was here. He was not good with these kinds of situations. Not when it came to his sisters. No wonder Jxo always looked like he was about ready to punch his face most times. 

Kiri and Tasam…? His sister and his- well who was Neteyam kidding, Tasam was as good as his best friend. Why did this all seem like a surprise to him though? He somehow knew it would be coming… didn’t he?

He thought back to every interaction between the two. The man was smitten with Kiri, and Kiri… well, Kiri was near unrecognizable around Tasam. 

He made her happy. 

That was all that mattered, no?

“You have my permission.” 

Tasam’s jaw fell a little, then he straightened up when Neteyam’s face turned mildly murderous. 

“But you should know, my sister is precious. I don’t care if you hurt her unintentionally or not… you know what I’m capable of.” 

It should’ve been difficult to take the mighty Neteyam’s threats to heart when he had an adorable infant strapped to his chest. But Tasam still felt the sting of his words.

“Are you nervous to ask my parents?” Neteyam asked when they’d made it to the heart of Home Camp. 

“Am I nervous to ask the clan’s Olo'eyktan and Olo'eykte if I could court their eldest daughter? That’s a joke right?” Tasam huffed. “Course I’m nervous. But I’ve been wanting this for Kiri and I for so long now. That and I already told Kiri I was going to ask her when you all got back.”

Neteyam laughed, accidentally waking his son who woke with a startled cry. He was quick to comfort the baby with soothing strokes and pats on the back. He also gave him his index finger to hold which of course Zyden instantly put in his mouth. 

“You told Kiri you were going to ask her before you asked for my parents permission?” 

Tasam back slapped his arm, careful not to jostle the baby. “If I remember correctly, you did about the same thing with your Xilä.” 

“Shit, that’s right.” 

“And worse… It was all the clan could talk about for months, some still to this very day. No meeting of the parents, no announcements, no ceremonies, no-”

“Alright alright, you made your poi-” 

“You’re back!” a distant voice called excitedly. 

Kiri’s smile was almost giddy as she made her way closer and from the look of Tasam’s he was probably- nope, definitely worse. 

Ugh. Neteyam was suddenly nauseous. While the duo reunited- lovestruck gazes locked on each other, he focused on his son who was still biting away on his finger, drool leaking down his chin and along Neteyam’s palm. 

“Your aunty Kiri and her new boyfriend are going to make your poor daddy sick, aren't they,” he whisper-sang to his son. “Yes they are.” 

Zyden smiled up at this father as if he understood, gurgling while flashing his gums.  

“Oh here, let me help you with that.” Tasam swooped in with ease and hefted the heavy basket Kiri had been straining with. 

“Thank you.” Her cheeks were flushed and she bit her lip to tame her smile while she and the warrior continued to fail at being non obvious lovesick fools. 

Zyden’s coo broke their spell. 

“‘Teyam!” Kiri exclaimed as if shocked to see him standing there.

“Kiri.”

“And Zyden!” His sister snagged the baby right out of his carrier and held him close, squishing his cheek against hers as she rocked him.

Zyden looked slightly alarmed, eyes wide at the sudden movement but he did not cry.

Neteyam simply sighed at the pair all the while and of course, the mighty Tasam was just about melting at the sight. 

~

“What are you up to, my love?”

The baby turned and gave his mother a cheeky grin that showed off all four of his baby teeth and it just about melted her heart. 

But Xi wasn’t fooled by his cuteness, she saw the glint of mischief shining through his expression. 

The determined thing waited until she was busy folding another large sheet before he went off again, crawling towards his most recent fasciation.

“Zyden.” Xilä’s tone was soft but firm. “Uh-uh. No playing over there.”

Zyden released an unhappy whine at the reprimand. And despite his mother’s warning, he still reached and held onto the bottom of the wooden shelf to pull himself up on wobbly legs. 

Even though the shelf that housed her husband’s weapons was sturdy and Xi knew the baby couldn’t reach anything, she still corrected her son- letting him know it was dangerous. 

His little leg tried to lift, dangling with nowhere to perch. Not getting anywhere, he stomped his foot in frustration, though it didn’t stop him from trying again. 

“Zyden Sully!” Xi clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Uh-uh, mama said no. Come down from there.” 

At that, his tiny face scrunched up in anger, bottom lip pouting as tears rapidly pooled along his lash line. He pointed at the shelf and babbled his displeasure.

“I know. I know. But you’re too young for those. When you’re older I’m sure daddy will love teaching you to use them.”

Zyden drew a long, silent breath then promptly wailed louder with his head thrown back. One would swear she’d just ruined his entire life.   

“Aw, come here, my love.” 

She could sense a full blown tantrum brewing and since Sal had told her earlier Zyden missed his afternoon nap, Xi expected her son would turn tired and cranky right around this time. 

Laundry forgotten and scattered around her, she gave him her full attention, beckoning him over. 

“Zyden, my heart, come here.”

Listening, he carefully fell to his butt and crawled towards her. “Mma-ma,” he cried, tiny tail flicking back and forth as he moved.

How was he so perfect? 

Xi gathered him into her arms the second he was within reach and smothered him with kisses- forehead, cheeks, nose, angry twitching ears.

“See? This is why we shouldn’t miss nap time, my love. So cranky,” she cooed in a singsong tone.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned tiredly- proving her point, then impatiently pawed at the cloth that covered her chest.

“Hang on, hang on.”

Settling him against her breast, he nursed more for comfort than hunger and while he fed, Xi stared down at him in adoration. She hummed a song and wiped away his lingering tears, thumb sliding across baby soft skin.

She marvelled over his wild curls while brushing them off his forehead and laughed quietly when he offered her his little foot for her to kiss, tiny toes wiggling cutely. 

Nipple still in mouth, he smiled and reached up to pat her cheek, fingers gentle and stroking much like she’d done to him. 

The action caused a tiny pang of sadness to hit her. He was growing up so fast- too fast.

Every one of his milestones filled her with pride- his first smile, first laugh, first word. She may have shed a tear or two over his first tooth… and maybe over the second, third and fourth ones too. And although she was eager for all the other firsts- especially his first steps, each new milestone always reminded her that he wouldn’t remain a baby forever, so she made sure to relish every moment. 

The clanking sounds of their tent’s chimes alerted her that someone was here, and then the beaming face of her husband entering their home came into view. 

“I’m home!” 

Meal forgotten, Zyden grappled and used her top to help pull himself seated, legs and arms kicking and flailing excitedly at the sight of his daddy, gums and four little teeth proudly on display. 

“Look who’s here, Sprout. Who’s that?”

He glanced back at her and pointed at Neteyam who was hurriedly putting away his things.

Zyden prattled a garble of baby talk, tail slashing so fast, Xi thought it’d flick right off. 

Unable to contain himself any longer and with a loud gleeful shriek, their son crawled right out of her lap and charged full speed across the tapestry-covered ground, towards his father- all traces of his mini tantrum gone. 

Neteyam laughed while scooping him up and tossed him in the air before settling him high on his chest. “Why are you naked, huh little man?” He smacked noisy kisses to Zyden’s chubby cheeks making the baby squeal happily. 

“Your son figured out how to remove his tewng this evening.” Xi adjusted her top and picked up a towel to resume her folding. “Every time I put it back on, he took it off and the game seemed never ending, so I let him win for today.” 

“Oh yeah?” Neteyam grinned proudly, as if she’d told him his son had accomplished some massive achievement. “You’re so clever, Zyden. Daddy’s so proud of you.”

Xilä paused and simply stared at her two favourite people in the universe. Eywa, did she love them with her entire being. 

“Mmba-Da-da.” Zyden babbled, tiny palms smacking Neteyam’s cheek and nose and mouth until he spotted and made a grab for the lone string of beads in his daddy’s hair. 

“That’s right, Sprout, that’s me! I’m daddy.” 

Only recently and after a lot of coaxing, Zyden had started saying dada. Xilä didn’t think she’d ever seen her husband cry that much when he’d said it, but then again she herself was a sobbing sap when his first word was mama. 

Neteyam made his way over and crouched down to greet his wife. She kissed him back and they both broke out into laughter when Sprout leaned over to do the same- drooly lips open against her cheek in his version of a kiss. 

As soon as he was set down, Zyden crawled off towards a forgotten toy. He tossed it away then charged after it, finding fun in doing it over and again. 

“I spoke to Lo’ak and Tsireya this morning,” Neteyam said conversationally as he started helping her fold the laundry. 

“‘Teyam,” she interrupted, using her “mom voice” as her husband so liked to call it. Xi had gotten distracted by the article he’d chosen to fold. 

“What?” he asked in faux innocence. Neteyam snatched up another one after folding it to his best and shot her a naughty wink.

Her mate always went for her undercloths first, forever eager to handle the intimate, flimsy things. She shook her head and snickered while he continued on, telling her about Awa’atlu updates. 

The pair chatted about their day- him informing of the new shipment of goods they were preparing to send to the Sarentu and Ta'unui clans, and her prattling on about her early morning lesson with Mo’at and then filling him in on their son’s fascination with his shelf of weapons. 

At some point Zyden had grown bored of his toy and fussily demanded his daddy’s attention. Neteyam dramatically tossed him amidst a pile of clean furs, keeping him entertained as they fought playfully.  

Later on, it was a battle to get Zyden to put his tewng back on, much less keep it on, but soon after, the little family of three made their way to the communal dinner, with their baby babbling the entire way there.

As if he belonged to her, Neytiri plucked their son out of his father’s arms the second they entered the clearing. Zyden was passed around from grandparent to grandparent before he finally settled contentedly next to his aunty Tuk who fussed over him as if she were a grown up. 

It was honestly quite cute seeing her break off tiny pieces of soft root vegetables and feed them to him. She offered him sips of her water which just splashed right down his chest and scolded him lightly when he ate too fast.  

Neytiri, who was nearer, kept careful watch and intercepted fast grabby hands whenever Zyden went after something he wasn’t supposed to. Neteyam chuckled from his spot when his son made a dive for poor Tasam’s teylu. 

The baby was most unhappy when his grandmother lifted him away with a chiding. He even gave Tuk what looked like a glare of betrayal after she giggled saying, “Zyyyyden. You don’t even have enough teeth to eat that, silly.” 

Midway through their meal, D’av and her family showed up. L’eya- toddler on a mission, plopped herself into Xi’s lap to excitedly show her a bug she’d found on the way. “It- it prewdy huh, aunty Xi? An it-it glows and eberyting too. See?”

Xi oohed and awed over the bug in her niece’s palm and Neteyam did the same- pausing his conversation with Jake when she crawled into his lap as well, before eventually running off to do the same with her grandparents. 

“You’re late. You hate being late,” Xi teased her sister who settled beside her. She frowned when she really looked at her sister.  “Are you unwell? You’re pale. Here let me see your-”

D’avi brushed her fussing off. “Stop that. If mother catches you she’s going to come over here and I don’t need that right now. You’re forgetting Yalnïk and I have two toddlers to wrangle, can you blame me for being la- why are you looking at me like that?” 

The older woman dropped all pretense when she saw her sister’s shocked expression turn into a knowing grin. 

Sighing in defeat, D’avi glanced around their family huddle to make sure they weren’t being overheard by their parents. 

Their mother and father thankfully, both had their hands full. Jxo was eating while balancing Zyden on his knee- the baby focused as he chewed away on a massive piece of fruit and Sal had both L’eo and L’eya who she was fawning over and feeding out of her own meal. 

“You can’t tell our parents yet,” D’avi barely whispered. 

“D’av.” Xi’s tail couldn’t keep its cool, it sprung high in excitement. “So you’re actually-”

“Yep… pregnant. I’m pretty sure it happened the night when Bwiin went and snitched on us.” She scoffed. “Our party was not that loud.” 

Xilä remembered that night. She breastfed so she didn’t indulge in the sweetened wines that were being passed around… D’avi however had just stopped with her little ones, so she went all out, and was pretty much the life of the party. They’d gotten so rowdy, Bwiin, their mother’s nosy and grouchy friend had gone and reported them for disturbing the peace. 

Xi bit her lip. “The night you got drunk at Leati’s bacholet party? And Yalnïk had to come get you?” She butchered that word for sure- every time too.

It was a surprise that Leati even wanted to take part in the odd human custom, but Xilä realized that Ze’lu brought out a side to the woman that outshined her cold and somewhat mean disposition. 

“Yeah. I jumped my mate the moment he tossed my ass in bed... Ugh, and I’ve been so, so cautious, Xi and the one time, the one time I forget to have the damn tea. Bam. Pregnant.” She sighed. “Oh Eywa, truly I pray it’s not twins again.” 

“Are you happy about this though? I can’t tell.” 

D’avi’s eyes turned watery. “Of course I’m happy. To be honest I don’t think it’s completely registered yet, but yes. I’m so happy, Xi. And Yalnïk, ugh. The man is so damn excited. He’s already hovering and-”

“D’av! Do you want ovumshrooms?” 

“Yes, please,” she answered her mate who was currently putting out their food. “He’s the best isn’t he? I mean look at his face, and his body. I’m the luckiest woman in this entire clan, aren’t I?” 

Xi smiled, she felt the exact same way about her own husband. 

She turned towards her son when she heard his cry of frustration. Tuk had just taken something out of his hand when he tried shoving it in his mouth. Zyden seemed to be telling her off in his baby speech, and kept reaching for it, whines turning fussier despite Tuk calmly telling him it wasn’t food. 

“Zyden,” Neteyam called from beside her. 

Their baby pointed at Tuk, as if begging his daddy to make her give it back to him. 

Xilä knew he wouldn’t last much longer. He was tired and cranky and fighting sleep ever since he missed his afternoon nap. She watched him struggle to decide whether to cry or not. Luckily, Zyden was distracted by L’eo’s giggle, so he crawled off towards cousins. 

L’eya was all smiles for the baby. She poked his nose in greeting, mouth full as she chewed her food. L’eo offered him some of the buoyfish he’d been feasting on but Sal was quick to give her youngest grandchild a piece of a mashed bean pod instead. 

D’avi’s low groan pulled Xi’s attention away from their children. Her nose was wrinkled at the meat in her husband’s leaf plate. 

“Sorry, sorry.” Yalnik moved his plate around so it wasn’t too close to her and struck up a conversation with Tasam and Kiri who were on his other side. 

“How are you feeling this time around?” Xi asked. She handed her sister a piece of cider root to chew on.

“My morning sickness feels more like all day sickness and I’ve got this lingering headache that refuses to go away. I’ve drank every tea possible to help ebb my symptoms and they all refuse to work. Can I come by the healer tents tomorrow? So you can check me over, make sure everything’s okay? I’ve been putting off doing that.”

“Of course, D’av.” 

“Eywa. Mother will be mighty pleased. Just look at her now.”

Sal was in her element. The grandmother had all three little ones surrounding her. It was impossible to miss the happiness radiating off of her.  

At home, Zyden was usually clingy with Xilä and she relished in the feeling of him being attached to her, whether it was to be carried or simply wanting her attention at all times. But she wouldn’t be lying when she said she also loved seeing Sprout socialize and bond with their family- especially with his grandparents. It was something she certainly never had growing up. 

Another fifteen minutes passed before it finally happened. 

“Xiiii!” Tuk groaned dramatically as she hefted and carried a wiggly crying Zyden from under his arms. The baby was already reaching out and calling for her. “Sprout wants you. Oof! He’s getting so heavy,” she half laughed, half huffed when handing him over. 

“Hello, my love, are you being a naughty Na'vi for your aunty Tuk?” 

Zyden didn’t waste any time, he stuck his little fist right down her top and gave a frustrated grizzle. 

“Thanks for taking care of him for us, Tuk.”

The little girl beamed at Xi’s praise, and giggled when Neteyam attacked her with his own brotherly affection before she dashed off. 

Xilä quickly tugged down the front of her top and Zyden eagerly found and latched onto her nipple to nurse. She smiled when his small sticky hand rested on her breast as his eyes instantly began to droop. 

“I’m surprised he lasted this long,” Neteyam joked. He leaned over to kiss and nuzzle Zyden’s chubby cheek as he suckled, soft feeding sounds and breathy baby gulps making him and Xi smile at each other. 

L’eo appeared not too long after, food grease shining all over his face and chest. “I all done wid my food,” he told his mother proudly.

D’avi chuckled. “Good job, baby.” She pulled him closer and wiped his face and hands despite his squirming. 

When he made his escape, he approached his aunty. “I play with Zyhen, pwease, addy Xi.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, sweetie, but he’s falling asleep.” Xi caressed his cheek in apology. “You’ll get to see him tomorrow, okay?” 

Poor L’eo looked so disappointed. His pout deepened when he turned to find his sister amongst their family, only to find she was already dozing in her grandfather’s lap. 

“C’mere bud,” Yalnïk reached out and scooped him up and D’avi turned to give them both her attention. 

Xi covered herself back up when she felt her nipple slip from Zyden’s lips.

“Oh he’s out,” Neteyam laughed. He gathered their milk drunk baby in his arms and wiped away the trail of liquid that ran down his chubby cheek and into his little neck folds.

“He’s growing up too fast,” Xi sighed, leaning against her husband to peer at their son. Their baby was sprawled without a care in the world, sticky coated skin, pudgy little tummy on display, tail curled up contentedly. “I feel like I blinked and now look at him. Gosh I’m going to miss this age.”

Neteyam nodded in agreement. He kissed her forehead then whispered, “I know the feeling all too well... But you know there’s a solution for that, right?” 

“What do you mean?” she murmured, perching her chin on his bicep. 

“You could always let me put another baby in you. Then another when they grow out of that age, and another when-”

Xilä pressed her fingers to his lips and snickered at his response. “May I remind you we are surrounded by our family. Don’t start with that if you’re not able to do anything about it right now,” she teased back. 

A dangerous glint shined in his eyes, nostrils flaring at her words. 

“I’m not teasing, Xilä. I'm completely serious.” 

“Oh I know. If it were up to you you’d keep me round and pregnant for an eternity, right?” She tucked a braid behind his ear, not so accidentally brushing the tip of his pointed ear with her thumb and smiled when he gave a subtle shudder. 

“You’re playing with fire, baby,” he warned but she simply gave him an innocent look and pretended she didn’t know what he was talking about. 

“But on a serious note,” she whispered, “is it terrible that I just want to enjoy it being the three of us for now? I’m not saying no indefinitely, after Zyden I know for sure I want more, but he’s not even a year old yet, he hasn’t even taken his first steps. I want to give him as much attention and love as I can until we decide for sure to grow our family.” 

“Nothing’s wrong with that, sweetheart. I like that plan.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.” He sensed a lingering sadness from her, so to lighten the mood, he teased, “And anyway I’ll get to focus on getting my practice in while fucking you senseless.”

“Neteyam!” Her face bloomed in mortification and she glanced around to make sure he wasn’t overheard. 

There’s that smile he so loved to see. 

~

True to her word, L’eo got to see Zyden the next day. 

The boys played loudly with the many block pieces their grandfather had crafted for them. L’eya seemed to find them too rowdy for her, so she sat in her own little world with her toys until Tuk had come by and joined in with her. 

Xilä loved the sound of her son’s laugh and she loved the sounds of her home filled with children playing. 

Zyden squealed and clapped excitedly when L’eo knocked down their pile of wooden blocks and then the two went back to building it all over again- it was mostly L’eo, but Zyden sure helped by handing him each piece. 

They were so stinking cute. 

A little later on when he seemed to have grown bored, her son sought her out. He crawled after her and patted her calf, tiny palms opening and closing- asking for up. 

The second she lifted him, he cuddled her, little face snuggled into her neck and Xi soaked it all up. It was her favourite feeling in the universe. 

Neteyam looked up from his whittling and was quick to join the two. He tried burying his face on the other side of her neck, but Zyden wasn’t having it. 

Their son pushed his daddy’s face away along with a mess of protesting gibberish that had sounds like mama and dada scattered in between. 

“I want cuddles too, you can’t have her to yourself,” Neteyam quarrelled with the biggest grin on his face. 

“Ma-ma!” Zyden argued back fiercely. He leaned his head against hers- their cheeks squished together while he kept batting away his father’s affections for her.  

“Ah,” Neteyam dodged another fist. “I’ll have you know she was mine first.”

“Ma-ma!” Zyden’s both arms locked around her neck. He gave her a wet sloppy kiss on the cheek and grinned wide, and those four little teeth just about killed her. 

“Alright, alright. I’m jealous now. Come here, little man, I’ve got a bone to pick with you.” Neteyam stole him away and dramatically rolled them around on the floor. The baby shrieked and burst into breathy giggles as they play-fought. 

Feeling like he was missing out on the fun, L’eo ran and jumped in with a roar. “I rescue you Zyhen!” To which Neteyam pulled him in too. 

Xilä watched on and called out “oh no’s!” from the sidelines. Through her laughs she couldn’t help feel a bit emotional. Neteyam was an incredible mate, but he was an even better father. 

When he cried out asking for her to come save him, she eagerly and happily joined in until they were all a pile of giggling limbs. 

~

Pillow muffling her screams, Xilä arched as her mate licked her into another mind shattering orgasm. 

It was the middle of the night and she’d already woken on the cusp of one, finding her legs thrown over his broad shoulders with his head bobbing eagerly between her thighs, licking and sucking like a starved man… and he hadn’t moved since. 

“‘Teyam.” Shuddering as she came down from another high, she feebly tried to push his head away, hips failing to escape his clutches. She was too sensitive and he didn’t seem like he wanted to stop any time soon. 

Yet he only tightened his grips and spread her legs wider, holding her firm with a bossy growl. “One more.”

One more. One more. That’s what he’d said the last two times. 

Her voice hitched when he nipped then sucked her clit hard, silencing her protests. He stretched her with his fingers, adding one after the other until she was stuffed with all three- digits curling and fucking her just right. 

White noise clouded her ears and her eyes rolled into her head. Body seizing up as it quickly prepared to shatter again, she struggled to keep her moans at bay. Her poor knuckles were painfully white from their tight grips- one fisted in her mate’s hair, holding on for dear life while the other squeezed the pillow she was biting into. 

She could just about cry when Neteyam slowed his pace. The wicked man wanted to draw out her pleasure and no matter how much she tried to ride his fingers faster, she failed. 

He pushed her hand away when she dared to reach for her throbbing clit. Eywa. She was near delusional at this point. 

“Mine,” he’d snapped when she tried to touch again, and then as if teaching her a lesson, he simply reduced his actions even further, fingers curling deep and dragging torturously slow while he lazily lavished her clit with his tongue. 

Turned into a mewling weepy mess, she was completely at his mercy. It seemed almost never ending.

Embarrassingly loud slick sounds emitted with every motion of his fingers making her arousal drench everything- his hand, face, her thighs, their sheets- shit, she’d just changed these sheets. 

Xilä’s orgasm blindsided her, making her cry out and damn near suffocate her husband with her thighs as her entire body seized up. 

She was almost sure she’d momentarily blacked out too, because when she finally came to her senses, her deep, heavy panting had calmed and the strong ripples of pleasure and orgasmic aftershocks had ebbed away, leaving her with lingering tingles. 

Neteyam, as if he had all the time in the world, was sucking his fingers dry. It shouldn’t have been a sexy sight, but damn if it was. 

Damn him.  

Then the asshole dived back down to lick her clean. 

WACK.

“Baby!” His jaw dropped and he was staring at her in surprise. 

Xi had actually smacked him with her pillow when he had the audacity to run his tongue across her oversensitive clit. He got the message this time. He snickered and just moved along to lick away the slick that coated her inner thighs instead. 

Through their bond, tsaheylu still intact from when they went to sleep, she felt him. Like a rolling storm, he was all consuming. He was so pent up and clouded her with his intensity, she wouldn’t be surprised if he combusted just then and there. It felt good to be the cause of it, honestly. 

“You didn’t come?” Shit. She’d tried to move but her legs felt like flopping fish. 

He shook his head and got up on his knees. She was greeted by an angry leaking dick, throbbing and needy in front her face. 

Xilä licked her lips, and between her thighs pulsed at the sight of him. Sitting up, she watched him wrap a hand around himself and give a firm stroke, thumb swiping across his tip before dragging back down again. 

Although she was still a bit light headed, just like he’d done earlier, she batted his hand away to grip him herself. 

At this he let out a pleased little groan and threaded his fingers through her hair. His hips gave a sudden snap and his dick twitched when she pressed a teasing kiss to the head of it- barely even making contact. 

Xilä smirked when she felt his fingers tighten in her hair, pulling slightly at her roots. “Xilä,” he growled, sending a rippling shiver down her spine. 

“What?” she asked cunningly, “No teasing?”

Through their bond she felt his building frustration, his impatience, his need. Tail circling her wrist, he got her moving. 

So bossy.

She stroked his length and found her pace, setting a rhythm that had her mate quickly blowing out puffs of air as he seemed to be trying to keep his composure. 

Cute, she thought. With her free hand she stroked his tail- its tip still wrapped around her wrist, both hands moving in tandem. 

“Xi-”

Reading his mind, her eyes found his own, locked and dangerous and just what he needed to get closer to his peak. 

He was practically fucking her fist by now, and damn near exploded when her other hand left his tail to squeeze the base of his dick. 

Xi licked him again, tongue running up the underside of him, along a vein, then circling its head. That was it, he couldn’t control himself any longer, he came with a blinding force- a strangled endearment, falling from his lips. 

Hot seed spluttered from him, painting his stomach, Xi’s hand and her pouty lips, a drop even landed on her nose. 

A feeling of victory flooded Xilä. She loved seeing her mate come undone, loved seeing him lose control. A side of him she was the only one to ever see. 

She stroked him all the way through, till his shudders ceased and his body grew lax and so pliant she was able to pull him down, his massive frame covering her entirely. 

Their lips met in the middle for a searing, all consuming kiss. Xi could taste herself on his lips, she was sure it was the same for him. 

Breaking apart for a much needed breath of air, Neteyam nipped her bottom lip. “Sorry I woke you up.” 

Xilä laughed. “No you’re not.” 

He grinned too. “No I'm not.” 

After they basked in the afterglow for another couple minutes, they cleaned themselves up, using water and washcloths to bathe each other, mouths unable to stop stealing kisses and hands unable to stop caressing. 

Returning from checking on their son, he helped her strip their hammock and fasten a clean pelt before they both climbed in- him pulling her on top of his chest immediately. 

“Sprout was still asleep?” she asked, breaking him from his thoughts. 

“Mhmm, out like a light.” He kissed her forehead and she snuggled closer. 

~

Somewhere between sleep and wake, Xi heard a hushed whisper. 

“Mama?”

She felt a familiar weight sat on top of her and the gentle pat, pat of a little palm on her cheek.

“Mama. Mama! Mommy wake up, I have to tell you something really portent.” 

“Mmm, I’m up, I’m up.” Xilä blinked awake to the view of her son’s sweet face. Exhaustion momentarily forgotten, she pulled him into her arms and across her chest, peppering kisses all over his cheeks. “Good morning, my love.” 

Zyden struggled a bit under his mother’s smothering, trying to wiggle out. “Mama stop,” he giggled. “Guess what?” His voice was dramatically hushed despite it only being the two of them in the room. 

“What?” she asked just as quietly to match his energy.

“Daddy say I can go fishing today!” Zyden shared, tail flicking in uncontrollable excitement behind him. As if reminding himself, he made a shhhh sound and pressed a finger to his lips before continuing softer. “And- and I get to use my new bow too. You know the one mama? The big boy one granpather Jxo make me? An- an L’eo and L’eya go too but no Js’avi, cause he-he too small still and then daddy show me how to catch the fish!” 

Xilä gasped dramatically as if she didn’t already know all of this. “Oh my Eywa! That’s all so exciting, my love!”

“Yah! I- I catch you a really big fish, mama. Den you cook it.”

“I like that idea. What kind of fish should I make?” She smiled tiredly and smoothed her hand over his hair. He looked so much like his daddy. 

“Zyden!” Neteyam walked into their room, hands on his hips with a disappointed expression. “I thought I told you we’d tell your mama later. She just fell asleep, son.”

Zyden jumped at being caught, his sweet excited face turning into one of guilt. Brow puckered into a tiny frown, he pointed at his mother, then said as if it made all the sense in the world, “But mama awake now daddy. So I tell her now. Later is too far.”  

Both parents couldn’t hold their amusement. 

This kid. 

“Alright little man, come on.” Neteyam grabbed him up and hung him upside down. Tickling his tummy, he made their son break out in a fit of uncontrollable giggles. 

“Da-ha-ddyy!” 

When he set him on his feet, his father said seriously, “Go on and have your breakfast. All fishermen need to have a good meal before they set off for the day.”

“Ohhhkaaay! Bye mama!” 

Neteyam blew out a breath and made his way over to Xi. “Sorry. I swear I only turned my back away for a second and then he disappeared.” 

“It’s fine,” she assured, stretching her neck and puckering her lips, begging for a kiss as if he hadn’t kissed her only three hours ago when she’d gotten home. 

Her husband obliged and when he pulled back he said, “We missed you last night.” 

“Me too. I'll try not to make it a habit, but I was really needed for the night shift. I’m sorry it was so last minute too.” 

“Stop,” he ordered, nipping her lip in rebuke. 

“But it was date night… We made a promise to never miss a date night. I feel terrible. I promise I’ll make it up to you and-” She was about to apologize again so he silenced her with another kiss. 

“Xilä. It’s your job, baby. You were needed. It's okay. And anyway, Sprout and I had an awesome guys night.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” His voice drew to a deep whisper, “Although if you keep insisting on making it up to me, I’d really really like to fuck you later. It’s been ages.” 

Xi’s snicker was interrupted by a yawn. “You’re being dramatic. Oh that does remind me though, I need to get more Qla’ira root. I’m running out.” 

Neteyam got quiet. He perched his head on her chest, golden eyes almost pleading. “Or you could… not?” 

“Behave.” She batted him playfully and ran her fingers through his braids. 

“I’m being serious. You know Zyden’s been asking for a sibling lately.” 

“I know, but we agreed when he turned five, to start trying again, remember?”

“Technically, it’d be the same thing… If we get a head start from now, he’ll probably be five by the time-” 

“Zyden will be four in a couple months,” she laughed, cupping his face.

They heard a crash, followed by a, “Daaaddy! I had a naccident!” 

“Duty calls.” Neteyam lifted and hovered over her. “Get some sleep, alright? We’ll see you later. And we’re definitely not done talking about this.” 

“Daaadeeeee!” 

“Coming!”

Xi frowned, when he left. She didn’t know why she was even fighting this decision. She herself was ready for another child- and not just because of her mate’s pleas or their son’s little saddened face when he asked them how come he, “didn’t have a baby like L’eo and L’eya had Js’avi.”

Eywa had told her as much that she was ready as well. Her bond with the Great Mother had been growing stronger and stronger everyday. 

So what was stopping her?

~

Later that night, during a family dinner, the kids excitedly ranted about everything that happened that day- all talking over each other and fighting over the attention of the adults. 

It was a full family night. Neteyam and Xi’s home was not only filled with Jake and his family or Jxo and Sal. There was D’av, Yalnik and their three little ones. Also Yalnik’s twin and his mate along with their brood of five kids- who had also gone fishing. 

Xilä saluted the men for having to take on so many of them. She wished she got to see them at it, since apparently they’d roped along Tasam and Ze’lu to get in some practice. 

Speaking of, Tasam and Kiri had even joined their rowdy bunch tonight- newly mated after their courtship. Their story was incredibly sweet. They’d gone the traditional route and followed through the steps of the Omatikaya’s customs.  

Their love was blinding and Xi was so happy for them. Although it had been years now, she still noticed the one or two times poor Spider would shoot them concealed glances. She was rooting for her friend to find his happiness too.   

“An den I shot my bow like,” Sprout made a dramatic reenactment, “an VOOSH! My arrow went so far into the water, and- and-”

“And the same time I shot mine too!” L’eo chimed in. “And it hit a fish!”

“Oh my! You caught one, L’eo?” Sal asked, intrigued by their story. 

“No,” the boy said sadly. “The fish swam away. L’eya got one though.”

The little girl blushed when the room broke out into cheers for her. 

Xilä loved nights like these. Their family dinners were always a boisterous affair. She felt entirely whole- as if she belonged. A feeling she fought to find for years. 

She watched her son seated in the cradle of his dad’s legs. They were both talking animatedly with Mo’at whose aged face was nothing but smiles. 

Something within Xi suddenly clicked. That uncertain emotion that had been plaguing her now had an answer and a flare of guilt followed the revelation. 

Stephan had taught her an expression once, “Waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

It made sense now why she herself kept putting off having another baby, because that’s what she’d been doing, wasn’t she?

Waiting for the other shoe to drop?

Waiting for things to go wrong, waiting to be told she no longer belonged. Waiting to see if she and her son would be casted out.

A weight lifted off her shoulders now that she knew what was holding her back. Stupid thoughts that would bear no fruits.

She had her whole life ahead of her. One filled with the joy and love of her and her mate, and of their children. Xi stared at her son, her son. Of course she’d wanted more of him, she Neteyam truly made ridiculously cute babies. 

Before she shook off her thoughts and returned to the present, she gave herself a mini metal pep talk- the reassurance that always seemed to help the times her mind clouded in darkness. 

She was here. 

She was safe. 

She was loved.

And she had found, her Safe Haven. 

 ~

Once again, my deepest thanks goes out to all of you who have taken this journey with me, to all of you who have read, and liked and commented.

Special thanks to all who gave suggestions and ideas. I love interacting and hearing your thoughts!

I poured my heart and soul into this story and the unbelievable feedback I've gotten- there's no greater gift.

Although there is one more part I'd like to put out- "a slice of life" to specify, I am officially marking this story as Complete!

Here's to more stories in the future ahead. 💛

Tags:@jakesullyfatjuicypeen@granddearduck@riatesullironalite@strawberri-blonde@earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop@blkmystery@neteswife@luvteyams@isnt-itstrange@erenjaegerwifee@faatxma@ivysully@bakugouswaif@pinkpantheris @mntx666@ironcaptainnataliabarnes

[swiftsdelucaa]

Great that you take requests!!! Can you do one with deluca where they are roomates and it's angsty and trying to make each other jealous to admit their feelings and they work together on a case... You decide you are a great writer do whatever comes to mind 🤗

❛ 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ❜

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Andrew DeLuca x reader ♡

𝘼/𝙣: I REALLY APOLOGIZE IK THIS TOOK SO LONG SORRY!!! Now that school has finally finished and I'm free I'll come back posting all my requests I promise! Sorry again and thank you so much for this request, hope you like it :)

Today has already been enough stressful, the last thing you needed was facing another unbearable evening, like all the ones you and Andrew spent lately. Sometimes it was stupid shit over stupid little things and other times it was just unspoken tension.

Anyways you found yourself spending the rest of the evening alone since Andrew didn't come back, after dinner you watched some tv shows laying on the couch, waiting for him. It was about some hours later when you heard the door open and turned around to see Andrew walking in.

"Hey" you got up. "Late shift I see" you said looking at him.

"Well the shift didn't end very late, I've been at Joe's" he replied, taking off his jacket.

"Oh... You could have warned me" you did your best to hide the disappointment in your voive.

"I'm an adult, do I need your permission to go outside?" he asked walking past you completely neutral and sitting on the couch. You sighed at his words, when he talked to you like that he hurted you more than he actually could imagine.

"No, I'm just saying that you could have let me know that you wouldn't have come back" you then said. "I also left you something to eat for dinner"

"I'm not hungry, I've already eaten thanks" you walked towards the couch to sit as well, not very close to him.

"Ok. Difficult day?" you then asked looking at him noticing he looked pretty tired.

"Not really, I had worse days" he kept avoiding your gaze as he spoke. "But I met someone, that's why I was late"

"Good" actually it wasn't good. But at least he didn't bring anyone home not letting you sleeping the whole night. "But you know you can talk to me too when you have bad days.." you added as he only looked for comfort in other people lately. Girls.

"I'm not saying anything about all the times you did the same" his tone was really cold while he was pronouncing these words. You rolled your eyes as he was starting to get on your nerves again.

"Andrew, I'm just trying to have a normal conversation, what's wrong with you?" he finally turned around to look at you.

"With me? He raised his eyebrows. "You may not realize it, but you're the one trying to control everything I do, Y/n"

"Oh God" you sighed as you left yourself fall behind against the back of the sofa. It was happening again. And it was harder forcing this everytime with a person that you cared a lot and actually liked so much. "Not today please" you whispered.

"You started it"

"Ok, will it end like this every time we talk to each other?" You got up, standing right in front of him.

"Seems like you want to, you know, no one is forcing you to stay here and talk to me, you can just go and talk to some other guy if it makes you feel better" he got up as well as he said that phrase so easily. "I think Avery would be happy to spend some time with you" you looked at him in silence, the fact he kept talking about this topic annoyed you more, he's been doing the same.

"Oh yeah you what? I will also invite him here if I want to, maybe one of these days for dinner" You said sounding completely confident. Yeah, you were starting to get closer with Jackson, you dated just twice and for you had been amazing spending some good time during this period. Maybe Andrew's behavior pushed you to do it, like him, but it was all so confusing that neither of you would get out of it.

"Fine, I couldn't care less as I'll just spend my time anyone else who isn't my boss"

"Said the one who's been fucking the head of cardio during his whole internship" he let out a chuckle as this wasn't having any effect on him.

"If you wanna talk about the past good, but you should focus on what's going on now" he looked at you this time. "Which is that I would prefer staying with anyone else right now than here listening to you" You knew he had a few drinks and was tired, so you decided to end it before his words would have hit you harder than they already were.

You looked away and went to your room, you could feel his gaze on you as you walked away, but he didn't say anything else to try to stop you. He's always been your favourite person, your safe place, but now it was something you hated and it made you feel so bad.

The next morning you woke up very earlier than usual, you had the morning shift but decide to get up before Andrew and have a walk going to the hospital. You didn't want to see him now and preferred to get some air. The city in the early morning it's something that hits different. After you took some time for yourself you arrived to the hospital and put on your scrubs. Some of your friends noticed that there was something wrong in your mood, but you just denied it and continued to focus on your work, then you found out that you and DeLuca were both assigned on Dr. Robbin's service.

"Amazing" you muttered to yourself in a sarcastic tone before walking in the patient's room where Andrew and Arizona were already waiting. You could feel his eyes on you for almost the whole time, this killed you. Before surgery you and him were alone scrubbing in together, the longest 5 minutes you've ever spent. Sometimes it seemed like he wanted to say something and break that silence, but nothing happened and the desire to disappear when he was around you increased more. You've been studying for this surgery a lot and you wouldn't have let distract yourself by worrying what was going on Andrew's mind everytime he looked at you. At least not now.

Time flew and you made it, luckily both of you stayed professional. You weren't sure if you now were ready to talk to him, but you haven't seen him anywhere after the surgery finished.

When you finally left to go home your attention had been caught by the sound of a horn, you looked up and noticed Andrew's car parked not very far from you. It was evening and you were too tired to walk home, that's why you decided to go to him and got into the car.

"Before you say anything, just caus-" you've been cut off by him kissing you, he grabbed your neck softly, closer to him and pressed his lips on yours in an intense kiss. When he pulled away a little smile lit up your face without you even realizing it.

"I'm sorry" he whispered. "I gave my worst all this time and I've been feeling like shit, you're the best thing that I got and I've just rejected you... really I'm so sorry, it's not true that I would prefer you to leave or spend time with someone else, I would do anything to have you with me" hearing these words made you feel the best ever, you've always felt the same about him. You smiled at him and he couldn't help to do the same. "Even if it's been all so stupid and confusing and well we acted like two babies sometimes.." you both chuckled softly. "I didn't want anything or anyone else, I just want you" his eyes softened and you smiled more.

"Fuck, you have no idea how much I've wanted to hear it from you all this time" you approached to kiss him again. "And yeah I want you too" you whispered in the kiss.

"Uh huh, fine, now stop talking" he smiled and kissed you back as intensly as before, his hand through your hair.

Finally all your days and evenings would have been definitely so much better from now.

[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me? Part 17

Fuck, guys, I don’t even know what this story is even doing at this point. I’m on part 18 and it does NOT want to wrap up. Like at all. It wants to go on forever and I don’t know how to stop it. It MIGHT be 20 parts. It might be 50 at this point. Who the hell knows? Not this poor belabored author that’s for sure.

Anyway...so this part is a little on the sad side. We get more of Eddie’s backstory. And a little bit of bitchy Steve to lighten it up at the end.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

*

It wasn’t until Steve was getting ready for school the next morning that he found he had left the comic at Eddie’s.

He was throwing homework in his bag when he realized it felt lighter than it should.

He unpacked it slowly and set everything out on his bed. He stood there looking at his stuff, hands on his hips for a moment before it dawned on him.

Shit.

The comic book. After he had finished all the pages he had painstakingly put them together in comic book form. He even designed the cover. Then took them to copying store and got it bound like a real comic book.

The kid at the shop was impressed with how well the pages were mapped out.

But it wasn’t in his stuff he had pulled from his bag. Which meant one thing. Eddie had it.

It was fine. No need to panic. He had written for Eddie. He was meant to read it.

So why was he freaking out?

Oh, only because Steve didn’t want him to read it until after the school play. Hell Steve’s nerves were already shot with the three additional performances Steve wasn’t planning on having to do. But adding Eddie knowing about the Upside Down? It made him vaguely ill.

Fuck what if he did throw up from nerves? He’d never done it before, but then again, he’d never performed in front other people before either. He was a literal mess.

He packed away all his things carefully and prayed to whatever supreme being that was out there for a merciful death on his way to school.

*

Eddie had stayed up the whole night reading Steve’s comic. Personally, he thought that the story was good, the characters were interesting and the monsters were frightening enough.

It wasn’t until he got the final page of the comic where Steve’s afterword was.

Unlike the rest of it where it was professionally done, the last page had a carefully glued on piece of paper. So this was clearly something that Steve didn’t want other people to see.

And Eddie would have respected that if it hadn’t been addressed to him directly.

“Eddie-

So there you have it. The start of my trauma. And yes this is only the start. The real story began with a missing boy and a cover up so large it frightens me. But that was never my story to tell. This is my story. This is where it truly began for me.

Well. That’s not quite true. It started with a girl and a swimming pool. A tragedy that should have been mine. But that night I was so intent on getting laid that I let it happen. Barb deserved better than me. She should have lived and I died.

I don’t know why I lived. Maybe it was because I was needed to protect those closest to me. That’s all I thought I was good for. Dying in a blaze of glory protecting those I hold most dear. And then I met you.

God, Eddie, you make me want to live. For the first time in my miserable existence I found people who like me for me. And not just because I was needed. To protect. To defend. To die. For them.

And then you came along and protected me. Defended me. I don’t think anyone has ever done that for me before.

Just do me one favor. Peel out this insert. Throw it away. Burn it. I don’t care. Just as long as you are the only one that sees it. I don’t want you in danger. But I needed you know this side of me.

The boy with the bat. The boy who never knew what love really was until he met you.

-Love Steve”

Eddie choked back tears and place a hand to his trembling lips. If Steve had really gone through all that. If even a fraction of it was true. Even if none of it was. That was still the most beautiful love letter he had ever seen. And it was addressed to him.

Shit.

Tears rolled down his face as he read the letter again and again. After the seventh or eighth read he finally did what Steve requested and peeled the letter out of the last page of the comic. He folded it carefully and crawled under his bed.

Buried underneath of the mess was a simple black lockbox. He set it gently on his bed and then went to his dresser. He slid out the bottom drawer and jiggled the bottom until a small key fell out onto the floor.

He picked the key up and sat on his bed. He unlocked the box and placed the key between his lips for safe keeping.

Inside the box were all the things Eddie didn’t want other people to see. The couple of birthday cards his dad had sent him from prison. His mom’s suicide note.

Not even Wayne had seen that one. No one knew but Eddie that she had taken her own life. He had seen her life insurance policy and knew it wouldn’t pay out if they thought it was intentional. So accidental overdose was what was on her death certificate.

Eddie had been her sole beneficiary and it was placed in trust until he turned twenty-one. He was going to use it fund the band and get the hell out of Hawkins. He just had to make that far.

The paperwork for the trust was in there too. Wayne had offered to hold on to it for him but at the time Eddie didn’t trust anyone and giving that up felt like too much.

His birth certificate was in here too. Well a copy of it anyway. Wayne had the original, but Eddie liked knowing he had a copy too. In case he needed to get away fast.

Also in here was a portion of the money he had made from dealing drugs. He told Reefer Rick, no meth and no cocaine. Mainly weed and mushrooms, with a small smattering of the harder drugs. He had set aside ten percent of his earnings as an emergency fund. In case he needed it.

The last thing that was in there was a picture of his mom. She’s sitting on the swings next to Eddie and smiling into the camera as Eddie laughs gleefully. Just out of frame was his dad who had been pushing him on the swing. It was the last moment of happiness Eddie had before Lawrence Munson got into selling and doing drugs. Had got his wife, Edie addicted. Before Larry had got himself arrested in Texas and Eddie was sent to go live with Wayne.

He placed the love letter on top and closed the box. He locked it back up and set everything to rights. He looked at the alarm clock and groaned when the bright red numbers glared back him. It was 4:57am.

Fuck.

Eddie was supposed to be up in an hour for school. Yeah. That wasn’t happening today. He flopped on the bed and threw his arms out. He thought about the comic and what was inside it. He remembered Steve telling him that he had changed it so unless you were there that day you wouldn’t recognize the events. But even with that it felt...well, it felt like he was being let in on secret if he was honest. A big one.

He looked over at the clock again and it was almost six. He sighed and got up. He grabbed the stuff he needed for his shower and ducked into the bathroom. The last thing he needed this morning was Wayne seeing him still in the clothes he wore the night before.

He showered quickly and got out before Wayne had even turned on the coffee pot. He was dressed and ready for school before the pot had finished brewing.

Wayne handed him a cup of coffee and raised an eyebrow at him.

“What do you want, old man?” Eddie groused. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk considering he was running on fumes.

“You were up all night reading that comic, weren’t you?” Wayne said and took a long sip of his coffee.

Eddie sighed. He should have known better than to think that Wayne wouldn’t catch him at it. After all this was the man who had been catching him reading books at three o’clock in the morning since he was twelve.

“It’s Steve’s.”

“I didn’t know he read comic books,” Wayne said almost an echo of what he said the night before.

“As in he wrote and drew it,” Eddie clarified.

Wayne’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a pretty talented boy you got there, Eddie.”

Eddie blushed. “I know. This was the story he was originally going to tell for his art class. Seniors in ART 4 had to do an eight page comic book for their winter finale. Steve started doing this one, but the teacher flipped out and threatened to call his parents because it was ‘too scary’ or some other dumb shit.”

“So he completed it anyway and turned in something else?” Wayne supposed.

Eddie nodded. “He told me he was going to finish it so that I could read it.”

Wayne hummed. “Do you think he left it here on purpose? So that you would read it without having to physically hand it to you?”

Eddie tilted his head and looked up thoughtfully. He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think Steve would have wanted to explain it to me.” He hung his head. “I shouldn’t have read it without that permission, but you know me.”

“I don’t think I would have been able to resist reading something that was meant for me either,” Wayne said, nodding.

Eddie drank the rest of his coffee and kissed his uncle on the cheek. “I’ll see you after school.”

“Bring that boy yours with you,” Wayne said. “I’m making my lasagna tonight, and I want him over for dinner.”

Eddie grinned. “You got it, old man.”

He was out the door and driving off before Wayne could even shake his head. Wayne loved that boy and if he was really lucky he would get another sweet boy out of this deal.

*

Steve was standing nervously at the door to the math hall because it was closest to the parking lot, chewing on his thumb nail. He knew he shouldn’t chew on his nails, but his nerves were shot to hell.

But the bell rang and there was still no sign of Eddie. So after a moment or so of indecision Steve gave up and went to class.

He spent this first class of the day fidgeting with his pencil, tapping against whatever surface was in reach. The desk, his book, his lips, his hand.

Finally the teacher had enough.

“Mr Harrington!” she barked.

Steve looked up at her in shock. “Yes, Miss Davis?”

“Do you have some hot date tonight that you’re nervous about or something?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest as she stared him down.

Steve looked at her blankly.

“Your pencil, Mr Harrington,” she explained tersely.

He looked down at the pencil. “No, Miss Davis. I didn’t even realize I was doing it. I’ll stop.”

Miss Davis pursed her lips. “See that you do.”

Steve tried finding less obvious ways to work through his nerves and then it hit him. He pulled out his drawing pad and began to doodle.

“Mr Harrington,” Miss Davis called out again some time later. “Would you please pay attention in my class?”

Steve blinked up at her. “You were talking about the Spanish forced colonization of South America, weren’t you?”

A couple of the kids in the class giggled.

Miss Davis turned red from the embarrassment. “Carry on.”

Steve gave her his lop-sided goofy grin.

Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21

Tag List: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @garden-of-gay @anaibis @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites   @thing-a-ling @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @artiststarme @sundead  @nelotegreitic @gregre369 @butterflysandpeppermint @thedragonsaunt @kodaik97 @messrs-weasley @scarletzgo @deadlydodos @renaissan-vvitch @evix-syne666 @emly03 @justforthedead89 @ashwinmeird @huniibee @phantypurple @stevesbipanic @shucks-yuckyuck @lovelyscot @awkwardgravity1 @bookbinderbitch @reportinglivefromsoda @jinxjinn @chasinggeese @be-the-spark-bitch @kohlraedirectioner @cr0w-culture @xjessicafaithx @whimsicalwitchm @jaywhohasthegay @estrellami-1 @dangdirtydemons @howincrediblysapphicofyou @the-redthread 

[spidrstar]

HE AINT SHIT pt 2.

★ pairings: aged up e!42 miles!morales × latina! reader

★ slowburn? characters are 18+ in this story they're in their mid twenties.

★ warnings: as i write this story some parts will be slightly suggestive, if that bothers u dni..

★ a/n: now THIS, this one i put a lot of effort into ☠️ 3k words long.. btw i already had most of chap 2 written out so i will not be putting this series on hold but i won’t be having a schedule bc i know i wont follow it. Again sorry for the hold up y’all my motivation went poof ily and lmk what y’all think abt this chap. sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger 😊

★ p.s i'll be adding a link to a playlist i made that you could listen to when reading abt miles Imk what y'all think.

★ summary: You end up going to your ‘apology date’ and things go south. You wanted to spend your time eating snacks when angry but ran out, so you left and went straight to the market then you met someone unexpected.

★ previous, part 3

mwah

“…almost fell in love with you

After the club last night.”

- lovely : sonder

With groggy eyes, you found yourself zoning out, you had woken up 20 minutes ago because you were hungry. You had the worst headache ever, and all the memories from last night flooding into your head wasn’t helping either.

‘I don’t know what I was thinking, giving him my phone. Whatever, I just won’t text him.’

You stretched and yawned once again shutting off the music you fell asleep to, getting up standing in front of your mirror you noticed you had the same clothes on from last night. The sight of yourself made you sigh in exhaustion, you looked like a disaster and didn’t have energy to get all pretty today.

You lifted your dress off of yourself and sat back down on your bed in the set you had bought specially for your date that failed last night. The thought, only making you wince with closed eyes, you remembered yourself falling into bed as soon as you got home crying yourself to sleep with music playing to help. You sighed and went on your phone, you realized you never answered Kole and you wanted to keep it that way ‘til later.

You weren’t in the mood to deal with him especially after what he pulled last night. Honestly, you didn’t really care if you both went the whole day without talking to each other. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t losing feelings for him, sure you’d been together for 6 months and duh you loved him he’s your boyfriend.. you just.. weren’t sure you loved him as much as you did before. Kole rarely did anything special, he stopped giving you sweet things ‘just because’ he didn’t compliment you as if he was still trying to get with you.

None of that.

He acted as if his goal was to just get with you, not keep you happy, not love you, not make you feel special, just get with you. You started noticing it on your 3rd month anniversary. All he did was buy you flowers, no date no nothing. Only reason you hadn’t left him is because you just felt as if you couldn’t. He had been there for you during all your darkest moments, you felt like you needed him in your life. You felt glued to him and if you were to unstick even just a little bit, he made sure he stuck you back to him.

Scrolling through your other notifications you find nothing interesting and upon turning it off, that’s when an incoming call pops up on your screen. You mentally sighed preparing yourself for the incoming argument awaiting to happen.

It was Kole.

It was 2:34 pm and he wanted to call you now? Scoffing before picking up the call, you already felt yourself getting angry.

“Qué quieres ahora, Kole.” 5 seconds of silence seemed to be enough for him before he finally spoke up.

“Listen, baby, I know I fucked up by not showing up yesterday but I had things going on and—“

You didn’t even let him finish before you snapped, this made you laugh. “I don’t even wanna hear it, Kole. All I'm getting from this is that anything is more important to you than our relationship.” You closed your eyes and laid your face into the palm your hand waiting to hear what excuse he had for you this time.

“Nonono, baby listen I promise it’s nothing like that I was just chillin’ with the guys while I was waiting for you to get off work and I fell asleep watching a game and—“

“Don’t- No puedo mas, don’t even finish. Kole, I'm fed up.” here we go, you had to stand up for what you were about to say already feeling yourself tense up at the anger you were feeling.

“You know, I made sure I asked for a day off tomorrow thinking we were gonna have the best night of our lives like you had promised. Do you know how much effort I put into getting ready yesterday? You never think about anything but yourself. I made sure to buy new clothes just for you, and here you are telling me you were too busy watching games with your friends while I spent more than 2 hours preparing for our date? Are you fucking serious right now?”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying and the silence on the other line was more than enough confirmation for you to continue speaking, you let out a short laugh, tears already forming from the anger you felt. “This just goes to show how little I mean to you. I cried, Kole. I cried over and over again last night because of you.”

Kole knew he had hurt you, never in your whole 6 months of dating him had you gotten so frustrated to the point where your voice started shaking. He knew he messed up, and bad. The silence on the other line only hurt you more, your response only being a couple of sniffles.

You heard him sigh preparing to speak, “Listen baby, I know I messed up. I truly wish I could show you how sorry I am. I never meant to make you feel this way and you know I would never do this to you on purpose, I—I’ve just honestly been so stressed and wanted to let loose with the guys. We drank a bit and I got sleepy, and I know—I know that is not a good enough excuse to not show up. And I could've at least left you a text. I know that. I just—..I swear this time I'll make it up to you, Y/n.”

You frowned and sighed. As much as you really wanted to forgive him and just ‘go back to normal’ you’ve been letting this slide too many times. You knew all the times he had given you a speech almost exactly the same as this one, he was bullshitting you. You remember it clear as day, when you found multiple dating apps downloaded on his phone he gave you the most shitiest apology. He never really meant it; he just wanted to make sure you were stuck and didn’t leave him.

“I don’t know, Kole. I really don’t know what to think of this anymore—“

“Y/n, please. I know I messed up, just give me a chance to make it up to you.”

You sat there really considering it, and you came to a conclusion that if he really messed it up this time then that would be the end of this relationship. “Alright Kole, fine. Pero te lo juro if you mess this up we’re done.”

“Thank you, thank you. I love you so much baby and I promise I won't mess up. Meet me at our favorite coffee shop at 4.” and with that he hung up.

You had lost almost all your faith in your relationship, so you figured today you weren’t going to put in much effort since you just wanted to enjoy your day off in bed. You stood up from your bed again and grabbed your towel heading to your shower.

It was 3:17 pm and you had only just started putting on clean undergarments, you knew by the time you left you would be there late but at this point that was the least of your worries. You sat in front of your vanity doing your skincare routine when you noticed a dark spot on your neck, wondering what it was you looked closely.

A hickey.

You gasped grabbing your makeup sponge and some foundation trying to conceal it so your boyfriend doesn’t think of anything. But to no avail, you failed. It was still pretty visible. This is the moment when you really started panicking, you got up from your desk rummaging through your drawers searching for a turtle neck and when you found one you sighed in relief. You thought for a second letting your heart beat slow down.

‘Miles, ese estupido.’

You put the turtle neck on along with some sweatpants, slipped on your uggs and fixed up your hair only slightly since you had slept with a bonnet on. It had just hit 3:34 pm and you still weren’t ready, a few pumps of your bath and body works perfume and you got straight to your makeup. Sure you weren’t going to put in much effort, but you still wanted to wear just a bit of mascara.

You got up from your desk, grabbed your keys and let Kole know that you were on your way.

As you made your way out the building it hit 3:56 pm, still no text back from Kole. You weren’t surprised to say the least. To pass some time you decided to walk, and since the coffee shop wasn’t far. You also didn’t want to lose your parking. You slipped on your earbuds listening to some music on your way there.

Self Love; Metro Boomin & Coi Leray.

“came to the city for the love

got her hurtin’ now”

By the time you got to the coffee shop it was 4:08 pm, Kole hadn’t texted you back nor was he inside. You stepped in the shop and got in line wanting to order a snack so you wouldn’t starve while waiting. You chose your favorite, a glazed donut with some hot chocolate. You decided to pick a warm snack since it had gotten a bit windy outside.

You got your order and sat at your usual spot in the corner, taking a bite out of your donut. You decided to go on instagram to cure your boredom. You opened the app and clicked on the explore page button, you watched a few reels and quickly got bored again, swiping to the right again trying to find something interesting you stumbled across a post with more than 4k likes. You hummed in amusement scrolling through the pictures.

Pressing onto their page you realized who it was, Miles. Intrigued you stalked his page, all his posts having more than 2k likes. You observed them closely, and you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t insanely attractive. You paused annoyingly remembering that you were still in a relationship and that you were mad at him for leaving a hickey on you. You glanced at the time again and it was 4:23 pm. You sighed, and got a notification from your weather app stating that there was going to be a crazy rain storm happening in about an hour.

‘Seriously? The one day I decided not to wear a sweater.’

As if on cue kole barged into the coffee shop in a hurry to see you.

You looked up at him with a dull look on your face, “Hi baby, I'm sorry there was traffic and I forgot my keys inside—“ Interrupting him you loudly sipped on your hot chocolate, signaling him to shut up with his excuses already. He sighed in defeat and sat down, “Well it doesn’t matter, you’re here now aren’t you?”

You flashed him a fake smile and you placed your cup down on the table and cleared your throat not sure what to talk about, “Sooo.. you gonna order anything or?”

“Oh, right. Do you want anything, love?” Slightly cringing at the nickname he gave you, “Yea another glazed donut would be nice.” And with that he headed towards the cash register ready to order, you took this as a chance to hop back onto your phone and look through Miles’ instagram posts.

You thought for a second, and pressed onto the ‘follow’ button. Disregarding the fact that you were still with Kole you exited out of the app.

‘Oh well, he follows many girls anyway and it’s not like we’re going to see each other again, especially after what he did.’

Kole came back with your glazed donut, he sat down and tried his best to make interesting conversation and most of the time you gave dry responses because he was just so.. how do you put it?——Boring. Usually it wasn’t this hard to catch your attention and have you entertained, but you genuinely wanted to leave.

“So yea, the game yesterday was awesome and oh! Max almost threw up because he ate 3 full boxes of pizza, can you believe that?! It’s crazy.”

You stared off across the cafe, so clearly uninterested and done with Kole. “Out of all the things to talk about, you chose to talk about what you were doing while I was waiting for you at the restaurant.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“Oh cmon, don’t do that. The whole point of today was for me to make it up to you and you’re making it difficult.” He pouted, and this only had you feeling even angrier.

“Yeah well, it’s hard not to when you’ve done this four times already.”

He sighed and as he was about to speak that’s when both of your phones vibrated against the wooden table, you turned your attention to his screen first.

Incoming call from Madison.

“I-I gotta go babe. I promised my friend I would help her move into her new place. ” He then placed a kiss on your cheek quickly and rushed out. You sat there in disbelief as to what had just happened.

‘So not only did he show up late to his little apology date, he also ditched me for some other girl.’

You scoffed and stood up from your seat angrily deciding you were finally going to break up with him. You stared at the screen of your phone acknowledging what your notification was, Miles had followed you back. You ignored it, not thinking anything of it.

You angrily walked down the street and headed to the supermarket before going home to distract yourself, you needed to get some stuff for the house anyway.

Only two blocks away from the supermarket you started feeling a few small rain drops on your cheeks.

‘Great, now I'm gonna be soaking wet. Could this day genuinely get any worse?’

You quickly rushed into the supermarket a bit damp and grabbed a shopping basket to your left.

You head towards the snack aisle remembering you had finished your last tub of ice cream last Friday. You scanned through the aisle looking for more options and as you were slowly walking sideways squinting your eyes you bumped into someone.

“Oh- I’m so sorry i wasn’t watching where i was goin-“

Before you finished you managed to turn around and see who the person was, as if the smell of his husky cologne wasn’t an obvious giveaway.

It was Miles.

“We meet again, hermosa.” He grinned at you in amusement, eyeing you down and of course, he still looked as beautiful as when you first saw him, nothing new. You rolled your eyes mentally and just stared at him wanting to take the ‘sorry’ right back.

“Never mind, excuse me.” You tried to walk right past him trying not to acknowledge his existence. “Wow really? It’s like that now?” He asked with hurt in his voice sarcastically, you shut your eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Dealing with Miles was the last thing you needed right now, especially after your little fiasco with Kole.

“Miles. Quítate del miedo o te quito yo.”

You spoke seriously without making eye contact, this only made him feel like teasing you more. The way you spoke to him in Spanish angrily made him smirk. “Cmon amor, what’s with the attitude? You weren’t like this last night.”

His snarky remark only irked you more, which finally caused you to look up at him. “Yeah well, this is what happens when you think it’s funny to leave hickies on me knowing I have a boyfriend.” You snapped at him and he chuckled lightly lifting your chin up to look at you directly. “You enjoyed it, what's the problem mami? You followed me on instagram too, so I know you were thinking about me, why the sudden change?” He smirked.

His voice so close to you sent shivers down your spine, you felt your body react to his touch and his voice so you quickly swatted his hand away, you clutched your shopping basket and moved past him. “Whatever, and that was a mistake, I'm unfollowing you later.”

He smirked as you walked away, you could feel his gaze on your back and you felt vulnerable, like he was a predator and you, his prey. You reached the cash register with him still following behind, you decided to speak up to try and get him to back off. “Will you quit following me everywhere?” You turned to face him, annoyance written all over your face.

“I’m tryna pay ma, not doin’ it on purpose.” He grinned at your reaction and you just wanted to oh so badly smack that beautiful grin off of his face. “Yeah? Well you could’ve chosen any other cash register, whys the one i went to your choice.” The cashier finished ringing you up and your total came to $23.47, you rummaged through your wallet and paid $20 you soon realized you didn’t have enough and mentally cursed at yourself for being so reckless.

You remember thinking before you left the house that it was best to not take much money since you were only going to the coffee shop, that decision only came back to bite on your ass. You cleared your throat nervously not knowing how to explain.

“I’m sorry.. I uh- I’m missing $4.” You laughed nervously trying to rummage through your wallet once more seeing if you could find at least three or two dollars. Miles noticed this while being behind you. You soon see out of your peripheral vision that he slid $5 to the cashier, you turned to look at him with a look that said. ‘You’re annoying, but thanks i guess.’

You placed all of your items in a bag and walked to the exit hoping Miles would stay behind, but of course since your day already sucked why not make it suck even more? He was right behind you. Pretty soon, that was the least of your concerns once you noticed that it was pouring outside. You groaned in distress palming your face and made terms with the fact that you had to walk in the rain.

You were about to step out until Miles caught on and stopped you. “Woah woah, what are you doing?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow. You looked at him as if he was wearing a red clown nose and a wig in confusement.

“Uh.. trying to walk home? What does it look like.” He matched your energy and came right back at you with a smart tone. “To me, it looks like you’re just tryna catch a cold.” You mocked him and soon noticed he was taking off his jacket while speaking. You had a confused look on your face when he placed it over you.

“What are you doing?”

“What? You think I’m bouta let you walk out ina rain like that?” He responded with a raised brow.

“Like what?”

“..Nothing.”

You ignored him and looked straight ahead, jogging out the market doors bag of snacks in hand. You groaned slightly looking up at the sky in annoyance because if even possible, the rain seemed to pour down harder. You noticed Miles was still behind you and turned to stare at him, eyeing him weirdly you then noticed how good he looked even when dripping wet in the rain. His black tee soaking wet, braids fucked up he stared at you through wet eyelashes.

“Miles, why are you still following me? I'm literally going home. Ya vete y déjame en paz, dios mío.”

“Look, I'm sorry, okay? I get it you’re mad but just let me at least walk you home. You don’t even gotta go on that date with me either, I’ll leave you completely alone afterwards. Promise. ”

You both stood in the rain staring at each other for a second before you felt sympathy for him, you felt bad for the way you came at him. Yeah, he left marks even when he knew you had a boyfriend but it’s not like you didn’t think he was cheating either. You enjoyed it anyway.. So why not cut him some slack? You turned around and continued walking but before you did, you slightly turned your head to the side to speak to him.

“Fine, but I'm not completely declining your ‘date’ offer. If you respect my relationship then maybe I’ll let you take me out. Not on a date, more like us hanging out as friends.”

You felt bad turning him down completely when you had already agreed to meeting with him, so you gave him a chance bonus points for the sad look in his eyes causing you to give into him. Besides, being just friends won’t do any harm to your relationship.. right?

He smiled following right behind you as you both turned a few more blocks, finally reaching your house. You went up the stairs and stood under the roof of the apartment to avoid the water. You stared down at him shivering in his jacket.

“Soo.. where you going now?” You asked curiously trying to fight back the way your teeth hit each other from the way you shivered.

“Probably gonna walk home, don’t live too far.” He shrugged.

You looked at him in disbelief, walking out this late in the rain with how windy it was would probably be enough to give him the flu. You sighed and stared up at the ceiling for a second before staring at him.

“Miles, come on.”

“What?”

“You’re coming in with me.”

He stared at you wide eyed not expecting you to invite him in, after all that begging for him to stay away from you; inviting him inside your home was the least thing he thought would happen but of course he didn’t have a problem with it. All he did was smirk at you and raise his brows as if to say, ‘you bein’ for real right now?’

“You paid for my snacks, lent me your jacket in the rain and walked me home. It’s the least I could do, besides you’ll get really sick if you stay out any longer soaking wet.”

You walked in making your way to the elevator which only left him smiling, standing behind you at the way you were concerned for his health.

You paused then spoke up again, “So? ¿Vas a venir o que?”

He then walked up the stairs to follow behind you into the apartment muttering a low ‘well if you’re offering, might as well.’

Soon, you were left to contemplate if this was a mistake or not.

Because little did you know, this was gonna be a very long night.

★ translations: Que quieres ahora - what do you want now || no puedo más - I can’t anymore || pero te lo juro - but i swear || ese estupido - that idiot || hermosa - beautiful || quítate del medio o te quito yo - get out of the way or I’ll make you get out of the way myself || Amor - love || ya vete y déjame en paz, dios mío - go away and leave me alone, my god || vas a venir o que - are you coming or what

TAGS:

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Uh hi! So I know you usually do ship stuff, but I am desperate for some Isaac Henderson angst content. I’ve found a few here and there but most of them aren’t actually super angsty and a lot somehow feel more about the other characters even if they’re meant to be about Isaac. They’re good but nothings really scratched that itch so far. Could you write something using #12 from the angsty dialogue prompts? Or honestly if you’d rather not do that one, any one of the prompts would be great. I’ll leave it up to you what exactly it’s about and who the line is directed at, I just wanna see my fave go through it.

hello!! i'm sorry this took so long! i would like to clarify that i started it ages ago, but it was at less than 1000 words yesterday evening, and then it was finished at 2am last night. (i got so into it i'm currently in the mindset of "that's it, i'm going to try and post at least a fic a week now 😤", but we will see if that actually happens.) so, i hope if nothing else it's sufficiently angsty and not too ooc. you did give me quite a bit of freedom, and it remains unclear if that was a good choice or not 😅 anyway, enjoy!!

12. "Help me."

Post-prom, Isaac felt out of sorts. 

His situation with James and his odd encounter at Elle’s exhibition had been eye-opening, to say the least. Angela Chen’s Ace still resided on his nightstand, though he’d finished reading it two days after lifting it from the library. He couldn’t bring himself to return it just yet; he found himself going back to it at night, rereading sections over again as if they would tell him something new, feeling he was still missing something. And anyway, they were still on summer holidays. The school wouldn’t miss it for now. 

No one seemed to be missing him much, either.

It was becoming more noticeable, this summer break, how he was the odd one out. He’d been aware his friends were essentially coupled off for months now, and Paris had cemented it, but Paris had also kept them stuck together as a group. 

(Plus, most of the Paris trip had been before things had become royally awkward with James, but he was mostly avoiding thinking about all that.)

The situation with Darcy had understandably taken a bit of a priority in the past couple of weeks, but it didn’t explain the shift that had seemed to happen within all his friends since prom. Isaac had figured for a while that Elle would be leaving, and he assumed it was why she and Tao had been attached at the hip. He didn’t begrudge them it, really. He had watched them pine over each other long enough that leaving them this time together felt warranted. Besides, it wasn’t like they were asking Charlie to movie nights recently, either. 

But it also wasn’t likely Charlie was waiting to be asked, these days. He and Nick had seemingly re-entered their honeymoon phase, which was fair given that they finally could be as coupley as they wanted wherever and whenever they wanted. Isaac just found it odd that it seemed to be more since prom than Nick’s coming out, but he was not going to ask about that. It made sense he didn’t want to think about. The intense, somewhat dark cloud that seemed to still hang over Nick around Charlie was more worth questioning, but it was also part of what kept Isaac from encroaching on them recently. 

Everyone seemed to have something going on. His going-ons felt a little unworthy, in comparison. He wasn’t sure if he was feeling shit about himself because he didn’t want to put an extra burden on his friends and it was a bit sad he considered his feelings a burden, or if that was an excuse for not having to talk about it because he didn’t really know how and it was making him feel shit. 

So, yes. Out of sorts. 

Out of sorts and alone, most of the time. 

He was not in the habit of pitying himself, however, and he was not about to start now. So what if he was having some life-defining realisations about himself and he had no one to share them with? He’d coped with life mostly on his own so far and he’d continue to do so. 

And he was coping. Perfectly. 

Kind of. 

Sitting in one of his best friend’s houses, surrounded by their other friends and staring into a book was how he always coped, so this was perfectly normal. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t absorbing the words and everyone seemed louder than usual. He hadn’t been sleeping well. He was tired. That’s all he was feeling. 

Tara tugged at his foot from where she and Darcy were perched on the floor by his armchair. “Isaac, we're gonna play a boardgame. Put the book down and come join us!”

Isaac looked, but Tao and Elle were still wrapped up in each other in the corner and Nick and Charlie were nowhere in sight. He raised an eyebrow at Tara. “We are?”

“Yes! Nick and Charlie are away to get them right now, so come get comfy.”

Darcy snorted. “Good idea, because we could be waiting for a bit.”

Tara slugged her shoulder and Darcy only giggled again. 

“Shouldn't they have passed the honeymoon phase by now?” Isaac asked, lowering his book slightly but not yet closing it. 

“Nick and Charlie?” Tara grinned. “I'm not sure those two will ever come out of it.”

“Well, I can't say I don't understand,” Darcy quipped, leaning in to Tara with a grin. Tara turned towards her, and their smiles melded as they kissed.

Isaac snapped his book closed. “Actually, I think I'll go to the loo while we're waiting.”

No one gave any sign of hearing him, so Isaac slipped quietly out of the room and up to the bathroom. He rolled his eyes at the giggles coming from Charlie's room and didn't pause. Closing the bathroom door behind him, he finally released a sharp breath. He perched himself on the edge of the bath and pulled out his phone.

Instagram was a distraction he did not often indulge in. His follow count was small—only his friends and favourite authors alongside a small cluster of bookstagrammers he'd found to have good taste. He saved a couple of recommendation posts, then began clicking through stories, pausing when he reached James's. 

The story was almost timed out, all of it from last night, seemingly at a party. Isaac had stopped on a video where James appeared to be singing along to the song playing with another boy. In the middle of it, the boy had swooped forward to kiss James on the cheek. 

Isaac stared at James’s delighted expression and something complicated clenched in his chest. He quickly locked the phone and set it beside him, directing his focus to the wall. 

It was good, he rationalised. James was wonderful; he deserved to be going out and having fun, and he deserved, without question, to have a handsome boy having fun with him. Whether they were friends or something more didn't matter, but the something more definitely seemed possible, if not likely. And James deserved someone who could give him that. 

Isaac had not been able to give him that—did not want to give anyone that, could not derive any joy from it, even from the chance of it giving joy to someone else. 

He was not incapable of love. He knew that. When he looked at his family, when he looked at Charlie and Tao and Elle, he was always so full of love he felt he might explode from it. It wasn't romantic, and it wasn't physical, but it was love, in its purest form it seemed, to him, given he did not want anything in return for it but their happiness and their continued place in his life. 

It was love, uncomplicated, unconditional love, and why wouldn't that be enough? 

He never seemed to be enough. 

He always did what he could to be a good son and a good friend, and he had never doubted it until recently. James had been one of those good friends. He still was, as far as Isaac was concerned, but their relationship had undeniably changed. Maybe it was simply in an awkward phase that would pass, but Isaac, at the moment, could not believe it would ever be the same. For a time, James had been something of his best friend—not because Isaac liked him more than Charlie or Tao or Elle, or because he really spent more time with him, but because James was Isaac’s friend in a way they were not. They spent time together, the two of them, and shared interests the two of them, and when they had been together they had not felt the need for any company outside of the two of them. 

But that had not meant the same to James as it had to Isaac, and Isaac could not give him anything more. He understood that his rejection would not be taken without consequence, but he hadn't been prepared to be, in a way, rejected in return. 

Was this all he would ever achieve? Having friends who would always be somewhat distant—who would always have someone closer, someone better—or having someone close who would eventually want that closeness in a way he did not. Before, he'd worried he was not worthy of that want to begin with. Never had he thought it would be his inability to return it that would be the issue. Could he be upset, that it was his not wanting to be too close that lost him all closeness as a result? 

He was alone on an island of his own making. He couldn't blame anyone for leaving him there if he wasn't going to invite them in, could he? 

Was this, then—alone in the bathroom of his best friend's house with his phone locked beside him and tears in his throat—all he was destined for? 

Isaac Island, party of one. 

A knock on the door startled him, and he swore quietly as he knocked his phone onto the tiles. As he picked it up, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and blanched. There were no tears, but his eyes were red and his face was blotchy and the tears were waiting in his throat, they surely would be there if he went back downstairs to—

Another knock.

“One—one minute,” he tried, clearing his throat when his voice cracked. He quickly turned on the tap and ran his hands and wrists under the cool water, but it did nothing to steady his breathing. The thought of his aloneness had choked him, but the thought of returning into company strangled him. It was not his friends’ fault—he refused to make it his friends’ fault—but at the moment, he couldn't bear them all the same. 

He cupped more cold water in his hands and scrubbed it over his face, but it did not shock him out of the spiral of his thoughts. The third knock barely registered over the growing ringing in his ears. 

“Isaac?” Not Charlie, like Isaac had thought. Not Nick either, or Tara, or any of them. “Are you okay? I'd really like to use the loo.”

His island, he thought deliriously, was sinking; he was drowning, and still, he could do nothing but soak his hands under the tap and soak his face in turn and suck in breaths that did not hold enough oxygen. He was drowning, he was sinking, he could not see it but his body felt it and his lungs were going to seize, he was dying—

He cut the knocking off by throwing open the door and gasping, “Help me.”

Isaac had one second to appreciate Tori’s bewildered expression before it turned serious and she took to action. “Isaac? Hey. Look at me.” She set her hands on his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around his middle, still heaving. “I'm assuming you didn't just get diagnosed with asthma,” Tori said, still impossibly calm—perhaps he was actually the sea, he thought, undefinable and raving, and she the island, unravagable. Isaac shook his head. “Alright. I think, then, this is likely a panic attack. Would it help if I get Charlie?”

Isaac shook his head more vigorously. 

To her credit, Tori only considered him for a few seconds, and didn't argue. She guided him back into the bathroom and gently kicked the door closed. “Sit,” she told him. He did, and she crouched in front of him. Immediately, with his knees pulled to his chest and the bath supporting his back, it was better. He was not so adrift. “You're alright. It will pass. I know it's stupid, but you really do just have to focus on breathing.”

She started counting. It was only when she'd repeated the numbers four times that he understood she was telling him how long to breathe in and out for. Then he tried to follow it, and slowly, air felt like it was moving through him regularly again. 

Isaac wiped at his cheek. To his embarrassment, his fingers came away damp. He didn't look at Tori, but he said, “Thank you.” Then, “Sorry.”

She didn't brush off his apology, or tell him to get out now so she could actually use the loo—both of which would have been fair and not unexpected responses. Instead, she turned and sat next to him. She leaned against the bath to his left, a few inches between their shoulders, and stared at the wall quietly with him. 

When his skin stopped vibrating, he tucked his arms around his middle again and breathed out. “How did you know what to do?” he asked. 

She glanced at him and shrugged. “I didn't, really.”

It was all she offered, but it seemed honest. Isaac decided not to push. He was too grateful to care much. 

“Do you want to tell me what it was about?” she asked, softly. 

Isaac looked over at her. She was looking back, unsmiling but not unhappy. She reminded him a lot of Charlie, Isaac had always thought. They seemed similar in ways they likely weren't even aware of. It was both comforting and unnerving. “Do you really want me to?”

Tori shrugged again. “I'd prefer it if you told Charlie or your other friends, because I think that would be more helpful. But I don't think you want to. So you can tell me, if you need to tell someone.”

That was—exactly what Isaac needed, really. He didn't exactly think it should be Tori. They'd known each other a while, and they liked each other well enough, but they weren't friends. Plus, Isaac knew she and Charlie were actually close; it felt weird and unfair to tell her something and then ask her to keep it from him. 

But in this moment, he could not think of a better option, and the mere thought of getting the weight off his chest was a relief. 

“I think I'm going to end up alone,” he said, blunt and ridiculous. Tori, completely fairly, raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Not because I think I'm unlovable or something like that.” Although that was part of it. “But because—” Could he say the actual words? “—I think I'm asexual, and aromantic, so I don't think I'll ever love love anyone, and I think that means I'll always be a bit alone.”

He could. 

It still seemed sad and pathetic when he said it out loud, maybe even more so, but the act of it—the unretractable reality of it—settled something in him. 

Tori's expression, a little confused but free of judgement, only added to that feeling. “So, you don't feel romantic or sexual attraction,” she said slowly. “At all. Is that what you mean?”

Isaac was vaguely impressed. He nodded. 

“When did you figure this out?”

Isaac took a long, heavy breath. “I think, properly, I started to figure it out in Paris, when I realised this guy liked me and I was trying to figure out if I liked him back? But I think I'd been starting to realise it long before then. I just…hadn't known what to call it, or what it meant.”

Tori, he noticed gratefully, took time to process this before nodding. “And now?”

Isaac blinked. “Now?”

“What do you think it means now?”

Oh. Isaac hadn't expected the question, and he found himself unsure of how to answer. “I think it means I'm always going to be lonely.”

Tori tilted her head. “But you didn't think that before.”

“What?”

“You said you don't think you're unlovable. And I agree. I think Charlie loves you a lot. I think most people would, because you are a very nice person. You didn't think of that as less important because it wasn't romantic before. What changed?”

Changed? Nothing. Everything. They were growing up, and love had more meanings when you grew up, and some of those meanings became less important. He looked at the wall again. “They have other people they love more,” he said softly. 

“And you won't ever have that,” Tori returned, equally soft. Not a barb, not a rebuke, nothing negative at all. Just realising; working through it alongside him. “So you think you won't ever be the most important person to someone.”

Isaac swallowed, unable to answer. Not because he didn't know the answer—because it was yes, it was true, she was right, of course she was—but because it was impossible to admit. 

“I think that's the case for most people,” Tori said, at once blunt and thoughtful. Isaac looked back at her, awaiting an explanation. “Think about it. Even the most in love people usually have children, and then their children are the most important people, or at least equally important. And if they have more than one child, no one of them is the most important, and neither of the parents are the most important to the other. I think, instead of having one supremely important person, most people have a group of important people in their life.”

She looked over at him and continued. “There probably are different levels and different kinds of importance, but I don't think that necessarily means one is worth less than the other.”

Isaac sat, for a moment, and absorbed that. Could it be true? He thought of his family. He was lucky, in that scenario. His parents were kind, were wonderful, and he knew without question that they loved him, and he loved them. Neither one of them, he realised, was more important to him than the other. He had different relationships with them both, but each of their losses would leave an equally sized hole in his heart. 

He knew that probably wasn't the same for most people, but if he could find that one example in his own life so easily, he couldn't deny it was possible in others. 

“I suppose,” Isaac said. “I think I know what you mean. I don't think it's the same, but—I know what you mean.”

Tori did smile, now. A barely there thing, but warm and kind, all the same. “It probably isn't the same. I know me saying I love my brothers equally and neither of them are less important doesn't mean anything for your friends treating you the same as their partners, or even other friends. But I think—every relationship is as important as you make it. And sometimes, people might not know they aren't making it important, if they don't know what's important about it to you.”

“Has important stopped sounding like a real word to you, too?” Isaac asked. 

“About six ‘important’s ago,” Tori agreed. 

Isaac laughed, and his relief grew. Tori's smile also grew, just a tick. 

“You're saying I should just talk to my friends,” Isaac noted, eventually, and Tori's smile grew wry. 

“I did say that at the very beginning, yes.” Isaac laughed again, and she shook her head. “But I am saying you should explain to them. I can't promise you're wrong, or tell you everything will be fine,” she said truthfully. “But I don't think you can assume people can't give you what you need, if you don't tell them what that is and let them try.”

Isaac’s chest tightened again, but it was different to the breathless feeling from before. Instead of hopelessness, it was an anticipatory sort of buzz. There was a sureness that hadn't been there before. 

There was a clatter from outside, and this time it was Charlie's voice that called out. “Isaac! Are you still up here? We have the game set up.”

Isaac looked from the door back to Tori. She gave him another smile and nodded. “Go on. I have really needed to pee for about ten minutes now.”

Isaac laughed, again, and got to his feet. Tori passed his phone up to him, and he thanked her once more. He knew she could tell he meant for everything, and she wouldn't appreciate him making more of it, so he took his leave without another word, leaving her to pee in peace. 

Charlie was hovering at the top of the stairs. His face broke into a smile at Isaac’s appearance. “There you are. You've been up here ages.” His smile drooped slightly as Isaac came closer. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Isaac nodded. “Sorry, I got caught talking to Tori.”

“In the bathroom?” Charlie huffed, bewildered but amused. For a moment Isaac pictured Tori's expression when he'd opened the door to her, and he smiled. 

He only hesitated for a second before saying, “I wanted to talk to all of you about something, actually.”

Immediately, Charlie's expression softened. “Yeah?” When Isaac nodded, Charlie smiled and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, tugging him towards the staircase. “Come on, then. The game can wait.”

[stormcrow513]

Hagging Out April/May Hexennacht/May Day/Beltane 2023

@graveyarddirt

So I actually managed to celebrate both Hexennacht AND May Day/Beltane this year! Go me!

So I spent the 29th 30th and 1st completely Witch faced high, lol

I got a shit load done, I did some cleaning, smacking out a lot of dead/shitty energy,

Combining that with a road opening and shit ton of blessing work,

I also thoroughly gave Offerings, April was such a fuck awful month I wanted to forcibly shove it out the door and lock the door behind it, I was so tired I was actually dreading Hexennacht this year cause I hadn't had time or energy to really plan anything or set things up well,

But somehow *cough* cannabis *cough* I became a fucking whirlwind and got everything done, and had a fucking blast,

I have to make do with a candle on my bedroom floor as a fire, but frankly it works just as well as when I was able to do outdoor rituals when we first moved here,

This was my second year with my Mighty Steed and Snakey Wand,

Though I've had that Steed since I was a little girl, you ever have something from before you started a magic path and one day go 'oh hey', that was me with that horse head cane,

See as a kiddling I fucking love collecting two things, rocks and sticks, I had a whole area in my basement 'playroom' (it was half done fucking dungeon, cause my father never finished shit, and it creeped me the holy hell out, but it was where I kept my sticks,) I had em all nicely sorted,

Anyway this gave me an appreciation for walking sticks and canes, my ma had her uncle's old cane I was always trying to play with, but dude was a big fucker, and cane was good deal bigger then me and ma knew I'd never grow into it like I'd been hoping, she found this horse head cane the head snapped and therefore adorable for her, she grabbed it up and brought it home to me, with plans to fix it up I was delighted I spent hours sitting in her closet rubbing my little hands over it,

Ma never was able to fix it up, but surprisingly through all the moves, and that time we asked my sister if she could store some of our stuff and she agreed and then went through it all and tossed and sold most of it,

Horse somehow made it, and I'd been keeping it in my closet,

Also funny enough I grew into it almost perfectly,

I realized a couple years ago while trying to come up with a Sabbat Steed that uh hello I had a perfect one sitting patiently waiting for me to get my shit together, lol,

So I before even fixing the head, started working it, cleaned it up nice, put the pieces near me while sleeping on Sabbat nights, bring it into circle, ect. Last year I finally put the dear together enchanted and Named horse, and off to the Sabbat we went, with my new snake wand tagging along,

And so we flew again this year!

May 1st is also my great aunt who raised my ma's birthday, I never got to meet her but I owe her my existence so I went to put a Coke can (her fav) out for her when I got a shock of a 'welo don't put the whole damn can down' so instead I shared a can with my great aunt for her birthday,

After that I did some work with The Spirit Of The Land, to bridge a better connection between us, that went extremely well

[driftward]

🦆 Zoissette and Klynt , Obtaining a Fountune/Settling Down/Lemonade Stand

🦩 Nyx and Erick, One Upping Each Other/Standing Up For/ Embarrassing Them

🦤 Karaswa and Azem, Crossing a Line/Hurt Feelings/ Lovers to Friends

🦜 Courier and Post Moogle, Singing and/or Dancing Together/Discovering Mutual Passion/Coming Out

Past me is such an asshole

🦆 Zoissette and Klynt , Settling Down

They always knew their story would end. But it took so long that they did not notice when it didn't. Friends and family passed on, but somehow, they never did.

The world moved on. It had new challenges, but new heroes to meet them. They had thrown their spark into the future, never expecting to see its light, but found themselves being kept warm by the campfire it lit aflame.

They were no longer needed, and anyroad, they were old, and so they settled down. Klynt had her children to look after, and Zoissette had her wife for a time. But children grow up, and spouses grow old, and time waits for no woman, no matter how bold.

The times they were apart from one another grew longer and longer, but they still kept up with each other, two warriors who had been in the dirt and the mud and the salt and the blood. A friendship such as theirs would always have such crew, but all journeys must one day end beyond the infinite horizon.

And so when their story ended at last, it was written on their own terms. They never said their goodbyes. For souls such as theirs, such was unnecessary. And so they each charted their final course, and set sail into the long, good night.

And in their wake, a thousand lights shined. Each spark a star, a light into a hopeful future they had fought to secure, forevermore.

~*~

🦩 Nyx and Erick, One Upping Each Other/Standing Up For Each Other/This one got away from me

Erick wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he slowly circled his opponent. Barryl tol Dylanius, former Frumentarium agent, somehow, SOMEHOW staying afloat, with practically an Legion's worth of manpower backing him, despite the fact that none of the Garlean remnants otherwise wanted anything to do with him.

Erick really hated this guy.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Eorzea's favourite second-fiddle failure. How's it feel getting those sloppy spy seconds from Thancred all the time, big guy? And look, now you get my leftovers, too. All I have to do is walk away, buddy boy, and you'll be left holding the bag. Again. That bag will be empty, just to be clear."

Erick looked past him, and shook his head.

"Oh no, I'm not falling for that again. I'm in state of the art magitek armor big guy. Nobody's sneaking up on me."

Nyx's expression was unreadable, but at least they hadn't finished the motion that would wind up with a knife clear into Barryl's skull. Erick let out a sigh of relief when they vanished again.

"But hey, at least your girlfriend will live, right? You just gotta do what you hate to do buddy. Just let me just walk away. Gotta say, past Barryl, putting that heartbeat monitor bomb right under the orphanage where Meya works? Simple genius. Thanks, present Barryl. But enough about our little dance here, Erick. I gotta go enjoy the fruits of my labor. Toodle-doo!"

Barryl's grin got bigger, and Erick just glowered at him.

Barryl's grin got smaller, and Erick just sort of frowned, confused.

Barryl started to rock back and forth in place. "Hey! What's going on!" he yelled.

Nyx stepped out from behind him, and a moment later, Barryl screamed, briefly, as his magitek armor suit electrocuted him, and he fell over.

"MEYA! NO!" yelled Erick.

"Meya and the orphanage shall be fine," said Nyx in their characteristic monotone as Erick rushed over. "I have disabled his armor and am now mimicking his heartbeat signal. The bomb will not detonate."

"Oh, shit, really? You can do that?"

"Yes."

"Give me a -heart attack- why don't you. You could've said something!"

They both looked down at Barryl's still twitching body.

"So... you're sure the bomb won't go off if we do something to him now," said Erick.

"Yes. Do you want to kill him?"

"...hey you locked up his armor, right? Can you put his helmet back on him and lock him out from being able to talk? 'Cus I just got the best idea."

Sometime later, Barryl woke up, shaking his head clear. "Whoa... what happened to us, Barryl?" he asked nobody in particular.

Weird how his voice echoed. It was like his helmet mic and speaker set weren't working. He could just barely hear a tinny voice from outside, though.

"Alright, children. Now for the last stop on our tour, Gage Acquisitions was very nice to provide us with a suit of decommissioned Garlean magitek armor. And special today, you can see for yourselves how tough it is. Go ahead and use any of the tools present to try to see if you can dent it. Just be careful with the larger hammers! Miss Ganajai will be right here if anyone gets hurt."

Barryl heard the sounds of rocks pinging against the outside of his armor, and he chuckled to himself. "Oh, just you wait until I figure out the override codes and get this thing going again. In the meanwhile, this armor's rated against even the strongest weapons. Barryl's got all day to figure this one out, kiddos, and then I'm going to turn Erick inside out."

Ping. Pong. Ping. Ping. Ping. And then, a loud THUD that reverberated through the armor like a bell being run.

"Heh heh. Yeah, keep it up. I can handle this all day."

Ping. Pong. Thump. Thump. Thump. THUD.

"Hah hah. Okay. Okay. I get it. We can stop this now. Go ahead and just give up now, Erick ol' buddy, and I'll go easy on you."

Ping. Ping. Ping. Thump. THUD. Thump. THUD.

The kids, apparently, were really getting into it. Barryl began to sweat.

"Alright come on knock it off!"

Ping ping ping THUD thump THUD ring ping a ding a pong pong pong BONG

"HELP!"

Erick crossed his arms and smiled as Nyx stood silently next to him, Meya cheerfully wrangling the kids even as they picked up larger and heavier objects.

"See Nyx? This is how you do this job. With style."

"Of course, Erick."

~*~

🦤 Karaswa and Azem, Hurt Feelings

Atraxae just sat, her feet dangling over the edge of the Amaurotine fencing that lined the walkway.

It wasn't real.

How funny. A fake city for a man who had no idea how to be real.

"Swive me," she said quietly.

Soft steps came up behind her.

"Might I share in thy pensiveness?"

"Knock yerself out."

Urianger scooted to the edge of the walkway, and soon he too was looking out over the cityscape.

"Thou art still unsettled by the visage of thine old friend."

"Hells yes I'm still shook up about that. I told ya, right? Everything here is fake. A pretty picture painted by a delusional arse in a rat man's coat, that's what. This wasn't what the place was like, and those people are just bloody - worse than mummers in a play. A mummer can at least improvise, carry a tune. Hell, even your wotsits, the little metal clockwork metal guys, ah, help me out here-"

"Mammets."

"Yeah, even they're more real than anything or anyone down here. That little stroppy one of Serendipity's, Gigi, they're a -hoot- and they got more brains than Emet-Suckit."

"Thou hath begun to repeat your colourful epithets for thine countryman."

"He don't deserve the effort of my incredible creativity."

"As thou sayeth."

They sat quietly for a bit. Behind them, a cubus rooted around in the bushes under a tree.

"But somehow he made Hythlodaeus real enough," Atraxae said, quietly. "It was - it was almost just like I remember him. Wonder what that says. About souls. About who people are. Like, I'm me, you know, but how much of me could you make just from what other people know about me, yannow? ...I think about that a lot."

"I suspect thou wouldst, given the history and outcome of your singularly revolutionary creations."

"Aw, you say the sweetest things," said Atraxae, punching him cheerfully in the arm. Urianger pretended to wince, and she laughed.

"...yannow, I almost convinced myself he wasn't real. Almost managed it. Like, I know he isn't, sort of, but he seemed so real. But he's just another weird puppet down here, right? But he said somethin' that I don't think a fake would say in a million years."

"Or, at the very least, in seven calamities worth of summers."

Atraxae howled at that, and Urianger gave her that small slight smile of his.

"Ah, but I distract thee; pray continue."

She may have been the biggest screw up in multiple realities, but the Scions were always there to steer her true. She was grateful for that, she thought to herself, as she got her thoughts back on track.

"He said I'd've made a great Azem."

Urianger rubbed his chin.

"Which is bullshite, as you know. But... but man, that means he had to be real. We both know Innit-Squelch sure don't share that opinion. But it makes me wonder. Why'd he say that? Is there an Azem around here somewhere? I know they used to get on."

"Worried at the prospect of meeting another whomst thou knew well?"

"No. Scared about... about finally meeting them. And if they feel just as real as Hythlodaeus, well. I guess I'm scared at finally learning about the person who beat me to the seat."

"You never met them? Truly?" Urianger's eyebrows went up.

"Yeah, truly. I was a bit sore about the whole seat thing. I mean, I got over it, I thought it was the right thing then, though looking at how things turned out maybe I'm not so sure, but look, man. It hurt. It hurt! I wanted that seat. I wanted - swive me. I wanted to be cool and do shit, you know? And I just - I went out of my way to never talk to them, and I should've. They might've been cool. They might've helped with all this mess. Maybe - maybe we could've - iunno. Maybe at least Karasawa could've kept this whole mess from getting so out of control. He was good at - at not swivin' everything up. You know."

"...unlike Atraxae, who, in spite of her judgement of herself, hath taken upon herself the mantle of humanity, and in so doing saw fit to make upon it a distinct and noble pattern of shepherding the star by defending it, even against those whom she may have once called kin."

Atraxae looked over at Urianger, stunned.

"I know not this Hythlodaeus, and know little of the Convocation save what we have learned and what you have been able to recall to share with us, but I tell you thus; I concur with his assessment. However, absent the authority or cultural knowledge needed to convey upon you the title of Azem, if I may be so bold as to suggest a different title for thee, my friend... that of Karasawa Atraxe, the mantle you have chosen for thyself."

"...thanks, Urianger."

"Of course."

"...you know what pisses me off the most about this recreation?"

"Praythee, inform me."

"Indignant-Self couldn't even be bloody arsed to remember to put in a chupaqueso stand."

Urianger's laughter rang, light and free, through the streets of the echo of an ancient Amaurot, and the laughter of an ancient would-be Azem joined him.

~*~

🦜 Courier and Post Moogle, Discovering Mutual Passion

Quinnelle could not believe her luck.

She, the fastest courier in all of Eorzea...

Sure, she had done a few things. She had managed to speed messages back and forth for some of the most important and coolest people in the realm. She had delivered some of what she was sure would go down as some of the most important missives in history.

She had even managed, despite herself, to deliver victory for the Eorzean alliance.

Ah, that joke was never going to get old.

But she was no heroine. No, what she was... was a courier.

And this was going to be the biggest honor of her career.

"So you're saying, Mister Deputy Postmoogle sir... is that you want me... to deliver packages for you?"

"Y-yes!" the little creature said, sweatdrops flying off his head as he bounced around in the air nervously. "It- it's for the good of the realm, right?"

Quinnelle tapped a finger against her chin, looking thoughtful for a moment. "Well, I don't know... I'm only the fastest of the fast couriers in Eorzea... with one of the most complete Aetheryte maps, even to places unseen by most men... and Yashtola -says- I only have one of the most puissant abilities of anima she has EVER seen... I'm just not sure I'm post mooge material."

The Deputy Postmoogle looked shocked.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! You simply MUST help me! I don't know anyone who could possibly be more qualified!"

"Well... if you insist!" said Quinnelle, with a big salute. "In that case, deputy to the deputy postmoogle, reporting for duty!"

As the Deputy Postmoogle cheered, Quinnelle felt her heart soar. Now this is what she was born to do.

Yesterday, the realm may have breathed a sigh of relief, but tomorrow... its mail -would- be delivered.

[tehaxo]

Heyoo! Hope you're having a good morning/night, I thought I'd stop by and send in an ask.

I'm not sure whether this is considered HCs or not, but who do you think out-of-the-current U.A. staff would randomly take a week break.....Only to spend it by staying up all night?

Like, they wanted to have a ✨️restful✨️ break but ended up just making their schedules even worse 💀💀😭

Thank you!

!If this ask is not of your liking, feel free to ignore it!

OH MY GOD LOL ITS OBVIOUSLY AIZAWA FOR SURE! also i hope you dont mind, i made reader be with aizawa <3 i apologize if it’s not what you wanted.

pairing: aizawa x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: i hope you enjoy it! i had so much fun writing these.

People would be super concerned when he would randomly take the week off and try to contact him, only to be angrily told off and hung up on.

He’d be happy that he got the week off but now that he has it, he’s confused. He couldn’t sleep whatsoever, what was wrong? He was able to sleep everywhere else completely fine.

You were also part of the crowd who was concerned but all your questions were answered once you found him tucked in bed. You guys had a shared bed and his low huffs didn’t go unnoticed and it annoyed you a bit, to be honest.

“Stop tossing and turning, You’re taking all of the blanket! And quit it with your sighing, it’s so loud I can’t sleep!” “I’m trying to sleep, stop yelling.”

The nerve he had, YOU were trying to sleep too! But he ignored your complaints and tried to get himself to sleep.

He was quite jealous of you in the morning, he wished he was in your place- Sleeping and resting. Once you were awake, you saw him staring down at you and you nearly got a heart attack. “Holy crap, You look like shit! Did you even sleep?”

A day would pass, and his efforts still went to waste. He’d go to your guys’ living room and come up with a solution, to watch until he got tired. He put on a random show and waited till he felt sleepy, except he ended up getting engrossed in the show. Episode after episode there was another cliffhanger that pissed him off. He refused to do anything else until he finished it.

He ended up regretting staying up watching the show because the ending was shit. Well, what was he expecting? He already knew the show was bad enough at the beginning but still chose to watch it. “Hey, you didn’t come to bed last night. Are you o- Huh? Were you watching my show?”

After getting situated in the morning and dropping you off at work, he was relieved. He immediately hopped into bed and closed his eyes. Finally, he was falling asleep. He was in the most comfortable position ever, seconds from passing out. “Hey, don’t forget to clean the cat’s litter! And put food in his bowl,” were the words before you hopped out of the car and rushed off.

He cursed at himself, he couldn’t get one moment of peace. He’d angrily get out of bed and then do the chores you asked him to. But as he was about to return to the room, he noticed that the house was super messy. He tried to ignore it but the thought of you coming back to a messy house after work upset him so he’d get out of bed once again and clean the whole house. All the sleepiness he had before was gone and he could no longer fall asleep.

He was doing everything but sleeping, he was doing it to himself at this point. He’d sip on coffee for a whole day and then wonder why his eyes won’t stay shut when he tries to sleep. On other days, you’d guys go out and spend time together. So he gave up on the last days of the week and accepted that he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

During that week, goals were not accomplished. He did not get one day of proper rest. When it was time to return to U.A, he looked like he had his soul stolen out of him. Many of the students and staff would ask how his break was then he’d respond with a scowl.

“I’ll have you know, I slept a lot. All I did was rest and nothing else.” “Oh… Uhm, okay then.” He would lie in a furious tone, it was obvious he did quite the opposite to everyone. So they would try not to get on his nerves too much for a few days.

So there, his whole week of struggling to sleep. Perhaps he’ll be able to sleep today peacefully.

[soft-boi-eli]

Hello Hello!

I just wanted to say I love your fics!

ALSO!

Could I request a CC!SBI X Gn! Insomniac Reader! Where the reader is an insomniac (Obviously-) but is somehow a pro at MC!

Like they are basically god at the game! They also REALLY enjoy horror games! They don’t get scared easily and LOVE horror movies! They basically love anything horror/creepy-

ANYWAYS!!

The reader lives off of ramen and Monster energy drinks (For fun-)! They have a Twitch (Which has about 18 mil followers and 14 mil subs!) and a YouTube channel (Which has 20 mil followers!)

They mainly play horror games (Obviously-) and MC!

You can do headcanons or scenarios/images with the SBI! Maybe like playing a horror game together or MC? OR! Maybe some things they do together? Or when they meet up? Or-to many ideas Nightmare-

ANYWAYS!

I don’t really care! And don’t worry about taking too long on it!

ALSO!

Maybe we could be friends? Only if you want too!

Remember to eat, drink, and get enough sleep!

<3

Yes. I lovesthese ideas and I'm gonna choose headcannons due to they are a bit easierfor me to write.

And yes I'm perfectly fine with being your friend! I'm actually happy to make friends on this app so yeah!

Pronouns:nonbinary

Tw: cussing. Insomia, mentions of horror movies. Mention of horror games. Fluff.

SBI with a horror streamer friend head cannons.

*Ahem* tommy wanted to paly a game with you so you choose a game that didn't look like horror until the middle. He screamed at the jump scare and it made both of your chats so happy.

When phil decides to play with you there is literally a silence after a jump scare. Everyone thought he had a heart attack and honestly so did you until he spoke up about accidently hitting his mute button when he jumped.

Wilbur. He's a bit better then tommy but more scared then phil would be. Any little noise won't get him but when it starts to get noticeable the noiseless to him. The jump scare, he'd fall out of his seat and stay on the ground for a bit. You ask if he's good and he literally doesn't answer. He's dead. You killed him. Congrats.

Techno. He'd handle them a bit better then everyone else. Not as good as you but heisnt very paranoid. He literally runs at the noises trying to get jumpscared. While you run after him telling him to stop because if he doesn't then you'd lose and die. And technoblade never dies.

If you all play together both tommy and wilbur pussy out. Techno last the longest and phil the second longest. While you remain the ruler of horror games.

Now how you all met was dream invited you to the dream smp to add to the chaos. Needless to say it got extremely chaotic due to you being on almost 24 hours. You first ran into techno. He seemed confused and skeptical.

You both found eachothers love for potatoes. You set up camp quote close to techno but not too close.

Phil popped in when he needed something for a build and noticed a new name. Talked to you in chat and asked to join your VC. You both found each other talking for a bit.

Wilbur was next. Wilbur got curious over the new person and just hoppedinto the same VC as you techno and phil. He was quick to realize that you were a famous youtuber. Mainly for your horror videos and your extreme Parkcore skills.

In minecraft that is.

Tommy noticing that all of you were in the same VC joined in with shouting. He was low key jealous that everyone was obsessed with you. Then he saw why.

You literally cracked jokes at his shouting.

"Is that an angry pomeranian? Nah nah. It's an angry child. Even better an angry blonde!" - you.

He was shocked and immediately started joking and laughing with you. He wasn't fully angry for long.

Now about your diet. When they heard that you had only eaten ramen and drank angry drinks they were concerned. You lived quite close to techno so when you guys met up he was shocked that you looked as healthy as you did.

He hated the fact that you literally didn't eat anything else.

You told him occasionally you have something other then ramen but you were just too lazy to really cook anything and that you didn't feel like burning the house down.

One month phil, tommy, wilbur, and techno decided to organize a month long sleep over so that they could celebrate your birthday. Phil being quote the father figure cooked different, but easy dinners every night just so you didn't eat only ramen that day.

When they actually arrived though you got a text from Phil asking about your address in your dms. Not think much of it you just sent him your location.

You were going to take a small nap. Just to bost your energy before you went and streamed later that night.

As you were sleeping there was a car heading to your house.

Phil, wilbur, tommy, and techno were all just existing in the car. And when they arrived to your house they didn't expect to actually see a clean house.

You woke to a loud knock.

When you opened the door in your half dazed state you expected a package. But to see four people standing on your porch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin.

You were stuck there blinking at them.

Finally snapping out of it you let them in. Confused on why in the ever loving fuck they were here.

Phil explained they were here to celebrate your 21st birthday and they were here for a month.

You stared at them for a while. Confused on what to do since you haven't had people over in almost 2 years.

But you got use to it.

So when you got done streaming and smelled something other then ramen you were thrown off guard. Like what was that. I haven't smelled that in years.

But after the second day you got use to it too.

For your birthday phil literally made a feast.

Like he found your favorite food other then ramen and cooked it. With that he prepared everything you could dream of.

Your sleeping habits. Let's dig into those.

I'm in no place to talk as right now it's 3:05 in the morning. And here I am.

But when they are over they don't let you stay up till no 3-4 in the morning. They all know the importance of sleep.

But there are those nights where no once can sleep and it results in a late night stream. And streaming for hours none the less.

The amount of accidental all nighters everyone has pulled was immense. But that's what happens with jet lag, adhd, and insomnia.

Literally you get tired randomly. Sleep for only 3 hours. Wake up. Drink coffee, energy drinks, highly caffeinated tea. And don't sleep till late at night.

Pillow forts.

It's a must and it happens. Horror movies, pillow forts, and snacks. Like you all are in this massive fort, watching horror movies, one by one you all are falling asleep. You and techno were the last up due to technos active mind and your body not letting you sleep.

You two literally just vide there, changing the movies from horror to some silly animated movies, like how to train your dragon, frozen, Luca, and many others.

You two pull an all nighter and it's actually a bet to see how long anyone else takes to notice.

You bet an hour. Techno says all day.

You won. Philza notices the worse eye bags under both you and technos eyes and immediately starts scolding.

He is papa bird and he won't let anyone of his children neglect their needs.

"Did you even drink water at all? You guys should of been sleeping not binge watching horror movies all night!" -philza

You could only offer a smirk, along with a laugh.

"I think we did I just can't fully remember. Also we were watching animated films. Not horror. Surprised you didn't wake up to let it go." - you.

You turn to techno.

"You owe me 15 bucks pig boy!"-you again.

Handing you the money he rolls his eyes. "Yeha yeah. Rub it in." -techno.

Ah yeah they found a horror game that you were scared of surprisingly. It was actually surprisingly you hadn't played it yet.

Outlast.

You had been holding off that game until you finished your other one but here you were. Bored out of your mind.

So you decided fuck it.

That game teriffed the shit out of you. It was so good though.

When you screamed they all came rushing up due to the fact that you never scream.

They say you out of your chair, on the floor, blinking. They thought you were hurt.

But you sat up and looked at your computer.

"Damn. That was actually really good." When you looked behind you and found the boys all staring you smiled and waved.

"You need something?"-you

"You screamed. We heard a thud. We thought you fuckin died!" -tommy.

"No I'm alive. My soul almost divorced my body but it's still quite here."-you

That day made highlights.

The popular y/n actually got jump scared. The one person who never screamed at horror games screamed.

When they left you were sad yes but they were still your best friends. Ready to talk when ever you want.

Sometimes I think that you guys talk all through out the night. Them forgetting that you were actually in a different time zone.

Sometimes they pop into your streams, be it MC, horror, you just talking to your fans, or even the once in the blue moon, cheerful games.

They just pop in and start talking to you. And you talk back like they were there since the beginning.

Phil is now one of your moderators too. Along with tommy, wilbur, and techno. When they pop in they make sure no one picks on you.

And since you are now close to the SBI. You are now part of it.

You didn't choose the fans did. But they are your new family. No matter what.

Even if they disagree with your eating habit.

Or energy drink addiction.

Or insomnia.

Or you mainly playing horror games.

Or you basically living in your streaming room.

Or even the nearly 24 hour streams.

I could go on but I'm not gonna.

I'm tired. But I can sleep. 2 days and I get to have a tour of my new school.

And it took so long to finally get into it.

We have been going through a huge hassle even before school started to get me enrolled.

And then we had to get me into this program.

But now on Monday I get to go in. Get a tour. Then start either Tuesday or Wednesday.

Anyway hope you liked. It's now 3:50 and it's no proof read I'm sorry

[yourmidnightlover]

letting go

summary - when spencer comes back from prison, there’s no doubt he’s changed, especially in the bedroom. 

warnings - cat-calling, inmates describing gross sex things, soft dom!spence, fem!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (female receiving), hair pulling, fingering, aftercare, bit of subspace, fluff. *let me know if i missed anything*

wc - 3,758

masterlist

-----------------------------

spencer had been gone for almost three months. in prison. he was in prison for three months. in hell for 84 days.

you had visited him as much as you could, remembering the times he would be bruised and beaten each time you would visit him. some days his bruises would be even worse than the previous time.

on your visits, the men in the back would holler and cat-call you. you didn’t mind, as long as you were able to see spencer. but spencer did mind. he minded that those criminals were thinking things about you that only he, as your boyfriend, should be thinking. 

but he couldn’t do anything about it. 

the few times he tried, he only got beat worse. he wanted to defend you, to let you know that he could protect your image, but inside of that prison he couldn’t. he had no power. he had no control. 

you told him it was okay.

“i can handle a few whistles, spence,” you reached your hand across the table to gently stroke his knuckles. “it’s alright,” you tried to ease the obvious tension in his body.

“no. it’s not alright,” he softly argued. “you don’t even want to know what they’re thinking about right now,” he turned his eyes to the table, avoiding your gaze entirely. 

“i don’t need to know. i just need to talk to you,” you whispered softly. “i just need you to know how much i love you.”

“i love you, y/n,” he finally met your eyes, a small smile playing on his lips. 

when he would go back to his cell, or to eat lunch he would overhear people talking about you. talking about the things they would do to you. the things they were thinking about you.

“she’s got a fine ass, too. i would slam it so fucking hard, shit,” a large man groaned, recalling the image of you walking out of the building.

“i’d make dr. fbi watch while i did it, too. i don’t know how he got a bitch that looks like that,” another one replied.

he could only try to tune it out. most of the time it wouldn’t work. he would be doomed to the psychological torture of hearing them mention the crude things about you, unable to do anything about it.

so anytime you came to visit, he would have to mentally prepare himself for the worst. he wanted to see you, he truly did, but them saying those things about you made him want to restrict you from seeing him as a whole. but he loved you too much for that, and as selfish as it was, he needed to see you.

he needed your light heart. he needed your kind spirit. he needed your lifted energy. he just needed you. and if he had to do that while taking a bit of the names and annoyances, he would.

and you knew he hated it. so every time you visited him after the first time you would wear sweatpants and a hoodie or anything that would hide your figure. you wouldn’t wear makeup, you would try to look as unappealing as you could, just to try and make spencer more comfortable. 

but it didn’t necessarily work.

the first time you ever visited him, you wore your normal work outfit. a charcoal gray skirt, a matching gray blazer, white button up blouse, and black heels. that was probably the worst it was for spencer. you heard them hollering from behind the glass, trying to get your attention. you played it off cool in front of spencer, in spite of feeling slightly uncomfortable. 

he knew it made you uneasy, but you kept up your spirit for him.

the last time you had to visit was to tell spencer he was finally coming home. he thought it was just another visit, but he was also in  private meeting room waiting to see you. 

you could wear your normal work outfit to visit him again. 

you walked through the door, a small smile on your face. your eyes began watering from the thought of actually being able to touch him again, to feel his arms around you. to feel his lips against yours.

“you’re coming home now, spencer,” you felt the tear leave your eye, now rolling down your cheek.

his face changed as he came to the realization that he was no longer trapped in that hell hole. his eyes went wide, watering just like yours had as he walked quickly over to you, enveloping you inside of his arms completely. 

the first hug he’s had since he got transferred to the prison. he was glad it was with you. 

his arms went around your waist as yours were over his shoulders, his face nuzzled in your neck, his sniffles muffled by your skin. 

he relished in the smell of your shampoo, the feeling of your soft skin against his, the warmth of your body he’d missed for so long. he relished in your presence.

he pulled back long enough to press a firm kiss to your lips, his hands trailing up to cup your face softly. your hands held his arms right where they were, not wanting to let him out of your reach again. 

“i love you,” he said once he left your lips long enough.

“i love you,” you returned. 

the sweet paradise didn’t last for long because there was still the matter with cat. spencer was troubled with what was going on with his mom. stressed from the realization that he might lose her forever. he leaned on you even more during that time, needing your strength to help guide him through the hurt. you were more than happy to oblige. 

once you had all found his mom, safe and sound, spencer was finally able to relax a bit. you both had decided to have a night in, just the two of you.

you turned on some soft music, and began making dinner together. you hadn’t had a moment to actually breath for so long, let alone spend quality time together in your shared apartment. 

making dinner with him was mostly just you doing all of the work. it’s not that he didn’t want to help, he really did. he’s just not the best in the kitchen. besides, you’d rather have his moral support than him to help. 

so as you hovered over the stove, stirring the sauce the pasta was just poured into, he wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his head into your shoulder and placing soft, gentle kisses. you turned around into his embrace, placing a kiss to his lips in return. 

“it’s almost ready, bubs,” you said with a smile. 

“smells fantastic,” he complimented. “but i’m also in the mood for something else right now,” he said with a mischievous grin.

“oh? and what is that?” you countered, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“i think you know what that is, darling,” he said, pressing a kiss to your jawline with a little nibble. 

“how about we save that for after dinner, yea? i don’t want it to get cold and i’m hungry right now,” you shrugged, releasing him from your grip and turning around completely. 

“well that doesn’t mean i don’t get to hold you while you finish up,” he argued, wrapping his arms around your waist again and resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“okay, well you do that, sir,” you laughed, stirring the pasta once more. “actually, can you hand me the plates, please?”

“of course,” he complied, handing you the plates that were on the already set table. “here you are.”

you both ate relatively quickly, you weren’t lying when you said you were hungry. after cleaning up a bit, which was spencer’s job since you cooked, you had both settled on the couch and were cuddling while watching a rerun episode of doctor who. 

he was laying his head on your chest, his arms wrapped around your body protectively as you stroked his hair softly.

then, he ran his hands underneath your shirt slowly, stroking the soft skin on your waist. his hands gradually went higher and higher on your stomach until the were right underneath your boobs.

“spencer?” you giggled. 

“hmm?”  he mumbled, lifting the shirt to reveal your stomach and lightly kissing it all over. 

“are you okay?” you asked, looking down at the man who was practically worshiping your body. 

“hmm, i’m perfect,” he hummed against your body. he let his hands go higher on your body, grasping your breasts through your bra. you let out a breathy exhale from his touch.

his lips traveled to replace his hands as they traveled to your back, looking up at you for permission before he unclasped your bra. you nodded eagerly.

“i need words, princess,” he ordered, his voice deeper than previous. 

“yes, please,” you squirmed, feeling the wetness pooling at your core as he undid your bra, revealing your chest to him as he threw it somewhere in the room. 

when his lips finally wrapped around one of your breasts, his hand went to the other one, playing with it gently. his tongue toyed with your nipple, his teeth gently grazing it occasionally.

“oh my god,” you breathed out heavily, your hips bucking up towards him for any friction. 

he brought his knee up to your core, giving you the perfect amount of pressure you needed. your hips ground against his knee quickly, begging for any kind of release you could get. his mouth switched breasts when he felt the other one was neglected. when he could tell you were getting close he snapped his knee away from your body, a low groan leaving your mouth.

“patience, princess,” he laughed against you, his mouth coming up to kiss yours fervently. “you’ll take what i give you, alright?” you nodded. “words,” he brought his hand up to wrap around your throat gently, not applying any pressure.

“yes, sir,” you moaned at this new found assertiveness. 

it wasn’t that he was never ‘in charge’ in the bedroom. it normally just took a while for him to get there. besides, he had also told you before how he kind of liked it when you were in control of him. you liked it either way, as long as you were with spencer you loved it. 

“i want you to go to the bedroom for me. you should be undressed by the time i go in there. no touching yourself. got it?” he asked, his hand moving from your neck to your chin, pressing it between his fingers.

“i’ve got it, sir,” you nodded eagerly as he allowed you to get up and make your way to the bedroom. you followed ever instruction he had given you, finding it even harder to not touch yourself while you waited for him. you sat in the center of the bed on your knees, facing the door.

after a few minutes you finally heard footsteps outside of the door. when he entered, he looked at you with such loving, caring eyes you weren’t sure what you had done to deserve him.

“princess,” spencer greeted you, “if you’re not comfortable with doing this you don’t have to act like it for me,” he said in his normal sweet tone as he sat beside you on the corner of the bed, his arm tracing down yours softly. “i need you to be totally and completely sure that you’re okay with this.”

“i am, spence,” you assured him. “i promise. if i don’t like anything i’ll say red like we normally do. i remember the stop light system,” you finished, leaning more into his touch.

“alright, i was just checking,” he leaned in, placing his free hand on the side of your face to bring you in for a tender kiss. “i love you.”

“i love you.”

“alright, princess,” he switched his normal tone into one of dominance. “ready?”

“yes, sir. i’m ready,” you agreed, clenching your thighs together to find any source of relief.

“good girl,” he leaned in, placing another kiss on your lips. when your hands went to wrap around his neck and in his hair he grabbed them in his own. “no. good girls ask for permission.”

“i-i’m sorry, sir,” you apologized. “i just-you’re so...” you trailed off.

“maybe i need to restrain these since you clearly have no control of them,” he wondered, moving to hold both of them in one of his hands.

“n-no sir, please. i’ll be good now. i promise,” you pleaded, trying to convince him otherwise.

“i don’t think so. sit against the bed frame,” he ordered as he moved to the closet to grab two ropes for your wrists. “now, maybe next time you’ll have half a mind to ask permission before touching me,” he began wrapping your wrists securely in the ropes.

“yes, sir,” you nodded sadly, your eyes reaching the bedspread.

“are these tight enough?” he asked as he pulled on one of the ropes.

“yes, sir. they’re tight enough,” you pouted.

“hey, princess,” spencer pulled his hand to your cheek, his thumb gently grazing your cheekbone as you nuzzled into his touch. “this is because you need to learn, alright? it won’t be forever.”

“alright, sir,” you smiled as he placed his lips to yours one more time.

“you’re my girl, right?” he asked as his hand began trailing down your naked body, tracing every curve you have.

“yes, sir,” you breathed out, goosebumps forming from his touch.

“mmm, you’re so beautiful,” he hummed as his hands traced from your hips down to your center, purposely missing the one place you craved his touch.

“please, sir,” you closed your eyes, hoping to feel his hand giving you some kind of relief.

“what did we talk about patience earlier?” he said as he moved his position on the bed.

“i-i take what you g-give me,” you recalled from your earlier conversation.

“so you’ll take what i give you now,” he said as he trailed kissed across your thighs in an upward direction. “i can’t even tell you how much i missed your pretty pussy. how often i thought about it late at night when i was alone,” he growled into your body. “i thought about,” he moved his hand to trail right above your clit, going all around it but never making any contact, making you squirm even more, “how responsive you are. i thought about how good you taste on my tongue,” he said as he trailed his tongue right over your entrance, a low groan leaving your mouth. “thought about that noise.”

“oh, god,” you mumbled as his tongue continued to move at your entrance, occasionally going in and out, eventually his tongue making its way to your clit and flicking it gently. “shit, yes,” your hips were nearly grinding against his face, your arms yanking at the bedframe.

the way he would groan into your pussy, just turned on from all the noises that emitted from your body was enough to send you over the edge as his tongue continued it’s attack on your clit. the only thing is, you needed permission.

“please, please, please, sir,” you begged.

“please what, princess?” he asked, his fingers taking his tongues place and continuing to move.

“please can i cum? p-pleaseeee?” you pleaded, tears pricking your eyes.

“cum for me,” he ordered. “show me how pretty you are when you cum,” he said as his lips connected with your pussy once more, finally sending you over the edge.

“fuck! yesss! oh my god,” you cried out as he worked you through the high.

the only thing is, he didn’t stop once you came down. he kept on going. he moved his fingers to your center and slowly pushed them inside of you, moving them rapidly in motion with his tongue on your clit. his fingers accompanied with his tongue and the way he moaned against your body was quick to bring you right back to that edge, you found yourself falling over it very quickly.

“oh my- please! can i cum? i’m so so close please?!” you begged once more.

“go ahead, princess,” he mumbled quietly against you.

you came with a string of ‘thank you’s’ as your hands pulled against the restraints violently.

“yesss, oh my god!” you yelled as you came down from your high once more.

“good girl, you’re doing so good for me,” spencer praised as his hands trailed up to your breasts, gently massaging them.

“mm, thank you, sir,” you relished in his touch.

“i’ve missed you so much, waiting to taste you like that again...” he trailed off. “waiting to be inside you again. to feel you cum all over my dick, god i miss that,” he growled.

“me too, sir. please,” you huffed out, squirming as he trailed kisses up your torso. “i-i want to feel you, please,” you pulled against the ropes. 

“does my princess want to touch me?” he teased, trailing his hand down the side of your face.

“yes, sir. please!” 

“since you’ve been so good, i’ll allow it,” he complied, finally undoing the restraints. you held your arms against your side as he massaged them, trying to bring the feeling back. “alright, princess. you can touch me now.”

“thank you, sir,” you said as you brought your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you so you could kiss him. 

“on your knees,” you immediately rolled over to your knees, your ass waving in the air waiting for spencer. “good girl,” he chuckled, his hand tracing the curve of your ass before giving it a squeeze. 

before you knew it, spencer was pushing himself into you. it had been so long since you’d been with him, it felt like the first time you had been together. subtle whimpers left your mouth as he was fully sheathed inside of you.

“fuck, i missed your tight pussy,” he growled, his words causing more wetness to pool where the both of you met. 

“it-it’s too big, sir,” you cried as he pulled back out slowly, only to push himself inside once more. “ah!” 

“take it, sweet girl. i know you can take it,” he bent down to moan into your ear as he slowly thrusted into you again. “uh... just like that, princess. just like that,” he groaned. his hands found your hips, guiding them onto his cock even with his thrusts inside of you. 

“oh my god,” you huffed as your face began to turn into the bed, the pillows and sheets muffling your sounds. “fe-feels so full.”

“you’ve got it, sweet girl. be my strong girl, alright,” he said, noticing the way your head nodded in the pillows. he trailed his hand up your back and grasped your hair, pulling your body up to meet his. “words, princess.”

“yes, sir. i-i’m so s-sorry,” you stuttered out, your head leaning back on his shoulder as his hand trailed down the front of your body. his thrusts only sped up the longer he stayed inside you. “oh, yes, yes, please!” you begged, not sure what for.

“what is it? huh?” he moaned in your ear. “want me to cum inside of you? or do you want to cum all over my dick? which is it?”

“bo-both, sir. please!” you confirmed as he quickly pulled out of you just to flip the both of you over so he was on top of you.

his hand found its way to the crest at the center of your body, doing rapid yet gentle strokes to get you just where you needed to be. before you knew it, your third orgasm of the night had come and gone. your arms went around his waist and neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. the warmth and pulsing of your pussy helped pull spencer over the edge soon after you, his release inside of you being something you didn’t know you missed so much. 

“fuck, you’re such a good girl for me,” he groaned as he fucked his own release back into you. “so good, y/n. you’re so amazing,” he praised, pulling out of you as you whimpered from the overstimulation

“spencer?” you asked, feeling a bit hazy. 

“yes, princess?” he asked as he rubbed gentle circles on your hips.

“mmm, i love you,” you smiled dizzily.

spencer noticed that look. the glazed over eyes, the way your smile seemed slightly faded. he knew exactly what to do for that, too. 

“i love you too, sweet girl,” he smiled, placing a kiss to your forehead. “why don’t we get you cleaned up, yea?” spencer’s hand found your hair, gently running his fingers through it.

“shower with me?” you asked, your hands trailing his jawline ever-so-softly, barely ghosting over his skin.

“of course, y/n,” he agreed, getting up so he could guide you to the bathroom. 

he gently sat you down on the toilet as he started the bath just how you liked it. he made sure to add lavender epsom salts to soothe your muscles, which were more than likely sore from the night’s activities. he added a few essential oils which were good for anxiety, worry, and body aches just to be sure. 

“alright, sweet girl. ready for the bath?” he looked over his shoulder to find you practically on top of him.

“yes, sir,” you nodded. 

spencer sat behind you as you leaned onto his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist as his palms rested against your stomach. you interlaced your fingers with his on your stomach as your head tilted to lay onto his shoulder. 

“i missed you, spencer,” you broke the comfortable silence. “a lot.”

“i missed you too, y/n,” he replied, placing a gentle kiss to your temple. 

“can i ask something?”

“anything.”

“what was that tonight?” you asked. “i loved it, don’t get me wrong. it was amazing. it’s just... you normally aren’t like that.”

“well,” he sighed. “i guess it’s because every time you would visit, the other inmates would say things. like... really bad things about you,” he felt tears welling in his eyes from the memories. “and while i was in there, i couldn’t do anything about it. so i guess i was just a bit pent up from the frustration, is all,” he shrugged.

“i’m sorry, spence. but,” you turned to look him in the eyes. “you’re not there anymore. no matter where your mind might take you, you’re here. you’re back with me,” you wiped the tears that he didn’t even know fell as he mirrored that of yours.

“i’m so happy to be back,” he pressed your foreheads together, not breaking the eye contact. 

“i’m never letting you go again.”

[subbykboys]

new to this | taeyong

↳ pairing : virgin!taeyong x reader

Genre ➞ pure smut oof

Warnings ➞ sub!taeyong, corruption kink, begging, mild degrading, handjob, fingering (m. receiving), public-ish(?), mild choking, running into walls

Word Count ➞ 8.3k

requested by @ninachocoo

posted ; 3.08.21

Hot. God, it was so hot. 

Then again, summer in your part of town always was. But this heat— this heat was different. It surrounded you, pulling perspiration from your pores and clinging to you persistently. It spilled down your throat, filling your lungs with every deep inhale. It robbed you of any and all of your energy, leaving you too tired to rouse yourself from where you lay on the cool tile floor of your kitchen in front of the open fridge (the absolute coldest spot you could find in your entire house). 

You didn’t cope very well in warm weather, if that wasn’t obvious. 

And, at the cost of your poor housemate’s sanity, you always found new and creative ways to cope with the excruciating rise in temperature, 

“Y/n a few of my— how many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that?!” You couldn’t bring yourself to so much as flinch as the fridge door was abruptly slammed shut, only managing to pull a whining complaint from the back of your throat as your only source of cool air was ever so rudely ripped away. 

“Fuck you, Mark. It’s too fucking hot to worry about the stupid electricity bill.” You huffed, peeling your eyes open just long enough to shoot an icy glare in the direction of the scowling brunette. 

He crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly, lower lip jutting out. “I think you forget that it’s a combination of both of our money going into paying them, so I think that I have a right to worry about how much is coming out of my pocket because you think that laying in front of an open fridge is a good way to ‘beat the heat’.” 

“Offer me a better solution, I’m open to suggestions.” You sighed tiredly. 

He only rolled his eyes. 

“Oh! I’ve got one,” you exclaimed suddenly, clapping your hands together as a gasp of excitement flew from your lips, “How about I just strip down and walk around butt ass naked? That should do the trick! Oh… but little Mark would like that a little too much, wouldn’t he?” You offered him a taunting pout, feigning sympathy as you glanced down unabashedly towards his crotch. 

Instinctively, his hands flew to cover himself as his cheeks throbbed a devastatingly obvious shade of red, bright enough to rival even the ripest of tomatoes. “Y–you—” 

Your lips curled with an amused smirk, but it faltered at the sound of thundering laughter coming from behind your flustered housemate. Your eyes followed the sound, finding its source in a group of about five or so men crowding up the foyer. Brows lifting in mild surprise, you shifted your attention back to an even more humiliated looking Mark. 

“You brought company.” An apology hung at the tip of your tongue. You really tried to keep your pg-13 teasing to a minimum around other people, especially knowing how susceptible Mark could be to his own embarrassment. 

“Hey Mark, I thought you said your roommate was a raging asshole with the sex drive of a teenaged boy on viagra? She seems pretty cool to me! And hot.” One of the taller boys chimed, a massive dopey grin plastered across his face. 

You turned to Mark slowly, brows raised. But he wouldn’t meet your eyes, head lowered. He wasn’t good at hiding his guilt. 

Welp. No apology for ole Marky boy today. 

“Please, allow me to properly introduce myself to our company.” Mark's eyebrows jumped all the way to his hairline as you pushed yourself off the floor and tossed an arm around his shoulder. “My name is (y/n), but I suppose Mark's asshole roommate with the sex drive of a teenage boy on viagra could work, too.” 

The look you shot him out of the corner of your eye had him shrinking in on himself, regret shining in his big brown eyes. But, you ruffled his hair, a silent reassurance that you weren’t all that torn up about the comment, especially considering it was hard to deny the layer of truth that lingered within it. 

You’d probably subjected Mark to more than his fair share of sleepless nights while you were up into the early morning giving the man (or woman) of the night the experience of a lifetime. A few scathing comments to close friends was more than understandable when looked upon in that light. Besides, you were never good at holding a grudge against your sweet, awkward, puppy-eyed housemate. 

The tall one that had spoken before chimed in eagerly, “I’m Yukhei, but my friends call me Lucas. Xuxi works, too. Or papi if you're feeling especially— ow!” Lucas yelped loudly as a hand connected to the back of a head with a sharp smack. You watched in amusement as another tall, charming looking man tugged him back, shooting him a warning glare before turning his attention to you. 

“Ignore him. He has a bad habit of forgetting his manners around attractive women. My name's Johnny, it’s great to finally meet you.” The sweet, disarming smile he offered you had any reservations melting away, and you easily returned the gesture before he proceeded with introductions. “This Haechan, Jaehyun, Doyoung, and— Taeyong?” 

Johnny pivoted around, brief confusion settling across his face before he spotted whoever he’d been looking for. Reaching behind Lucas, he grabbed someone's arm, tugging them into your line of sight. 

“And this is Taeyong!” He concluded with a grin, slapping a large hand down on the shorter boy’s shoulder. Taeyong dipped his head shyly, not meeting your eyes as he murmured a soft greeting that you were just barely able to catch. Soft tufts of dirty blonde hair fell over large brown eyes as he bowed politely, the air of meekness unmistakable. 

Oh, he’s cute. 

Your lips curled into an impish smirk. “Hi, Taeyong.” 

A faint blush darkened his cheeks and you caught a hint of a smile upturning the corners of his mouth. 

Really cute. 

Mark knew you well enough to see the gears beginning to turn in your head and coughed loudly when your stare lingered longer than necessary.

“O-kay, now that you’re all acquainted…” he stepped in swiftly, opting to intervene before you could get any wise ideas about his friend. “We have got a group project to work on and it would be extremely helpful if you’d refrain from providing any distractions. I already have a hard enough time trying to get them to focus for longer than five minutes as is.”

“Aww but I wanna hang out with your hot roommate, Mark.” Lucas whined loudly, practically throwing himself across Mark’s shoulders as the cutest pout you’ve probably ever seen fell across his lips. “She’s got a way nicer ass than any of you guys.” 

Doyoung sighed, his face screwing in second hand embarrassment for his friend’s shameless behavior. “Lucas, please.” 

“Have some dignity, man.” Haechan huffed additionally and you grinned in amusement as he grabbed the collar of Lucas’s shirt and began tugging him towards the living room. 

“Don’t worry, Mark. I’ll stay out of the way. I would hate to hinder your geek fest.” You teased, wrinkling your nose as you stepped past him. 

“Thank you, (y/n). I really— wait, Geek f– it’s a project worth thirty percent of our final grade!” 

“To-may-to, to-mah-to.” You waved a dismissive hand over your shoulder, before pausing briefly. Spinning on your heels, you turned back to face 

the cute boy, who visibly jolted the moment your attention landed on him. “It was very nice meeting you, Taeyong.” 

“Y- you, too.” He stuttered sweetly and you had to fight the overwhelming urge to reach over and pinch those adorable pink cheeks. Either pair. 

With one last sultry smile, and a wink just to fuck with Mark a little, you sauntered back into your bedroom. Miraculously, you were no longer concerned with the previously unbearable heat plaguing your apartment. Now, you had something —or rather, someone— far more interesting to occupy your mind. 

Taeyong was having a difficult time focusing, which was pretty out of ordinary. He had barely gotten anything done with his assigned part of the project, less than half a page filled out with what little information he managed to collect. Luckily, none of the other guys seemed to notice, too distracted by their own inabilities to focus to take notice of his. Otherwise he would have to concoct some lie. But he wasn’t good at lying. He was a terrible liar, in fact. So he would probably just end up blurting out the truth which was you. You were the reason he couldn’t focus. You with your mischievous eyes and your pretty smile and intoxicating laugh. Mark’s asshole roommate with the sex drive of a teenage boy on viagra. 

He’d seen pictures of you before. But they didn’t do you any justice. In pictures, you were pretty. In real life, you were beautiful, charming, witty, sexy, and you winked at him. Girls don’t wink at him. Not ever. But you had. You’d winked and smiled at him and he wasn’t sure if you were just teasing him because he flustered easily or if there was a chance it meant something a little more than that. 

… he secretly hoped it meant something a little more than that. 

But he shouldn’t be thinking about you right now. He should be thinking about finishing his research. Not your eyes. Not your smile. Not your voice of the way you purred his name and those shivers rushed down his spine and he could have sworn something twitched— okay. That’s enough. He really needed to splash some water in his face, cool down a little before his mind wandered to places it definitely should not. 

“Ah— Mark?” 

The younger boy lifted his head, brows raising. “’Sup?” 

“Where’s the bathroom?” 

He perked, tipping his chin forward. “Oh, it’s to the right of the k— shit, wait. That toilet’s busted. Um, just use the one in my room. It’s at the end of the hall.” 

“Thanks,” Taeyong pushed himself up with a soft grunt, nearly tripping over Yukhei’s long legs as he maneuvered himself around the cluttered coffee table, “I’ll be right back.” 

None of the other guys took much notice of how quickly he rushed out of the room, much to Taeyong’s relief. He let out a low breath the moment he turned the corner and found himself in a vacant hallway, but that relief was short lived. 

Mark had only said that his room was at the end of the hall. But, there were two doors at the end of the hall. Meaning one of them could possibly lead to your room. And you were in your room. Which meant if he walked through the wrong door on accident… he could walk in on you. Oh god. Heat rushed into his cheeks at the mere thought of such a humiliating occurrence. For a moment, he debated turning on his heels and returning to the living room. 

But, he wasn’t ready to go back to studying just yet. He was still feeling flushed and antsy and needed another moment or two to himself. Plus… he was actually starting to need to pee a little. Damn him and his tiny bladder.

Hesitating, he gently knocked on the door on the right side of the hall then waited ten seconds. No response. Just to be extra certain, he knocked twice more before finally turning the knob. Cautiously, he peeked his head inside. The black out curtains were drawn tight so the room was dark, too dark to make out anything defining outside of the vague shape of a bed and dresser tucked into the far corner. It took a few minutes of stumbling blindly through the inky blackness, tripping over clothes and extension wires until he found what he hoped to be the bathroom door. 

Without too much of a second thought, he opened the door. 

Then he froze. 

He thought it was Mark’s room. He really did. He thought he was tripping over Mark’s clothes and Mark’s wires. Though, he probably should have noticed the light coming out from beneath the bathroom door, indicating that someone might be inside. Or maybe he did but ignored it because– because maybe Mark just left the light on. That could have happened. That totally could have happened. 

But it didn’t. 

Because it wasn’t Mark’s room. Those weren’t his clothes or his wires and he didn’t leave the light on. 

He realized this all too late of course. Because now he was staring at you. You who was wet and naked and… wet and naked. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He could only stare, dumbstruck, mind short circuiting as billowing steam curled around the shape of your body like an iridescent veil, beautiful skin glistening under the soft golden light. Your head was tipped back, lips slightly parted, hands soothing your slick hair out of your face as the hot water cascading down the swells of your 

breasts and over the curves of your shoulders.

It was like watching something out of a pornographic shampoo commercial. 

“Oh—” it was somewhere between a whine and gasp, strangled and broken by the time it escaped his trembling lips. It was so quiet, you shouldn’t have been able to hear it over the hiss of water. So it took him off guard when your eyes opened and flicked in his direction. 

He flinched, body jolting backwards like it intended to make a break for it, but it was like your stare locked him into place. His brain was screaming at him to do something; to move, to  turn away, close his eyes, apologize, bash his head against the freaking wall, literally anything but stand there staring at you with his mouth open like a complete idiot. But he couldn’t. 

The corner of your mouth curled, forming into a downright devilish smirk that sent hot tendrils of desire spiraling through his veins. Then you quirked a brow and it was like a burst of electricity bringing him back to life. His hands flew up from where they’d been frozen at his sides, slapping so hard over his eyes that he yelped in shock at the sting. 

“Ohmygod I- I am so sorry! I am so—” he whirled around, spewing high pitched apologies as he scrambled for the door. Only, his eyes were closed so instead of bolting out the door he face planted into the wall next to the door. “Ow!” 

Your low laughter rippled through the small bathroom and red hot embarrassment raced up his neck and into his face. He could only whimper out one finally strained apology as he clutched his throbbing nose and stumbled back into the darkness of your bedroom, slamming the door sharply behind him. 

By the time he’d managed to scramble back into the hall, Taeyong felt like he was on fire. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he was certain if he dared to look in a mirror he’d be the equivalent of a tomato. 

Humiliation gripped at his throat, squeezing painfully around his airway every time he recalled the previous events. He’d never be able to face you again. Not after that train wreck. Not ever. Groaning distraughtly, he sank against the wall, silently wishing that the floor would just swallow him up and put an end to his suffering.

But, there was something worse than the embarrassment. Something hotter and harder, throbbing shamelessly in the confines of his suddenly far too jeans. He saw you naked— wet and naked, looking like a freaking goddess beneath the stream of hot water, soap suds still clinging to your skin. He had never seen a woman like that before. Not in person, at least. And none as beautiful as you. 

Biting his lip, he squeezed his legs together, trying his best to will away his progressively hardening erection. That, of course, did not work. And it didn’t help in the slightest that every time he so much as blinked, the image of you in the shower came rushing to the forefront of his mind, still fresh and vivid and devastating. 

Oh god. There was no was no way he could go back to working on the project now. If he thought he was being unproductive before— he probably wouldn’t be able to get a single legible word written with the image of you and your body burned into the back of his eyelids. 

He was doomed. 

And he still needed to pee. 

Damnit. 

It was about nine at night when the low voices transformed into booming laughter, the walls practically vibrating under the barrage of stomping feet. It didn’t take a genius to deduce that they’d finished up on their project— either that or they mutually reached the end of their attention spans. 

Regardless, you were bored of remaining cooped up in your bedroom merely for the sake of your roommate’s econ grade and needed to stretch your legs a bit. Not to mention you were beginning to crave something greasy and unhealthy. You were almost certain the group of college boys lounging in your living room wouldn’t be opposed to some pizza, fries, and milkshakes from your favorite delivery place. 

“I don’t know about you boys but I’m starving!” You sang brightly as you all but skipped into the room. All eyes swung to you, wide and stunned as they watched you waltz over to where Mark sat in the love seat and throw yourself into his lap like it was the most normal thing in the world. He grunted under your weight, lip curling in annoyance but wrapped his arms securely around your stomach nonetheless. You pretended not to notice the lingering eyes of one particular boy, meticulously curled into the farthest corner of the couch. “Anyone down to order?” 

“Ugh please!” Yukhei exclaimed, throwing his head back dramatically. “I am dying of hunger.” 

The others were eager to voice their own agreement and you turned to Mark with an expectant smile. “Rubio’s?” He asked, already reaching for his phone. 

“Read my mind.” You hummed, pinching his cheek until he hissed and swatted you away. 

It was nothing short of chaos trying to get everyone’s orders, multiple overlapping voices making it hard to discern exactly who was asking for what, but somehow Mark managed to place all of the requests with only a handful of difficulties. Well, all but one. 

“Taeyong.” 

The boy’s head jerked up so fast at the sound of his name that you were surprised you hadn’t heard something crack. Up until then he’d been sitting quietly with his knees to his chest, staring at his feet, pointedly avoiding looking in your general direction. He could only hold your gaze for a few tense seconds before his cheeks flamed and he dropped his eyes. 

“I– uh– y- yes?” He coughed, blinking hard. 

You tilted your head, offering him an innocent smile. “Is there anything you’d like to eat?” You couldn’t stop yourself from adding an unnecessarily suggestive pitch to the question, words dancing wickedly across your tongue. 

Taeyong swallowed and pulled his knees tighter to his chest. “I– I’ll just have some of the- the pizza.” The words tumbled clumsily out of his mouth and your grin only widened as he became more and more flustered under the heat of your persistent stare. 

“Perfect. Then we can share.” 

The poor boy nearly choked on air when you abruptly pushed yourself off of Mark and sauntered over to where he sat, squeezing in between him and an eager Yukhei, who was more than happy to make room for you. His entire body went rigid, brief panic shooting across his features as you made yourself comfortable. It was tight with Jaehyun, Lucas, Taeyong and now you all squished onto the couch, so you were practically flush against him, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. You pretended not to notice that he was holding his breath. 

“Thirty minutes.” Mark announced, shutting off his phone and shoving it back into his pocket. 

“What should we do while we wait?” Jaehyun asked, ignoring Yukhei as he whined about how he’d be dead of starvation before the food even arrived. 

“Movie?” Haechan suggested. 

You perked. “I know a good one.” 

“No— no.” Mark cut in quickly, pointing a finger with the intention to reprimand in your direction. “Every time you pick a movie it’s either fucked up or really fucked up. So no.” 

“Don’t be a pussy, Mark.” You huffed, wrinkling your nose at him. “Just because you don’t like horror movies doesn’t mean your friends don’t.” 

“I, for one, love a good horror movie!” Yukhei remarked, a smug grin breaking across his lips as he shot a flirtatious wink in your direction. 

Haechan scoffed. “Bullshit! You couldn’t sleep alone for a week after we watched The Shining. And that wasn’t even scary!” 

“There was a tidal wave of blood.” He grumbled defensively, crossing his arms over his chest as he slumped, lower lip jutting out dramatically.

“No tidal wave of blood is this one, promise.” You snickered, snatching the remote from the cluttered coffee table and switching on the television. It only took a few minutes of browsing through Netflix before you finally located the movie you’d saved to your watch list a few weeks ago but had never gotten the chance to watch. 

Marked hopped up to flick off the lights as you pressed play, any excited or nervous murmurs coming to a halt as the opening credits rolled across the screen. Beside you, Taeyong tensed, squeezing his legs even tighter to his chest. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, not missing the nervous way he gnawed at his lower lip even in the darkness. 

“Not good with horror movies?” You hummed, nudging his knee. He flinched in surprise, eyes shooting over to meet yours before he quickly diverted his attention back to the screen. 

“No, not– not really.” He admitted weakly, clearing his throat. 

A playful smirk twirled onto your lips and you subtly leaned into him, whispering near his ear, “you can hold my hand if you get scared.” 

A fierce blush consumed his cheeks, illuminated by the soft grey light of the television. “I– I’ll be okay.” He coughed when his voice cracked and you chuckled under your breath, opting to cut the poor boy some slack… for now. 

The movie progressed with the usual eerie start before transitioning into something lighter, though the low hum of anticipation-building music never ceased. Even if at some point it became rather repetitive, you thoroughly enjoyed a good horror movie. Most of the time, they failed to meet expectations and you left feeling rather disappointed that your stomach hadn’t leapt into your throat any point throughout the film. However, every once in a while, you were pleasantly surprised. 

Now, was not one of those times. 

Boredom quickly settled over you as the plot developed, revealing itself to be almost identical to a number of horror movies you’d watched in the past. You slumped back in your seat, a subtle scowl staining your lips. But then… inspiration. Devious, unquestionably self indulgent inspiration that risked putting a certain someone in a possibly very awkward (but also very delightful) position. 

The slow slide of your eyes from the television over to the boy seated at your left revealed that not everyone found the movie to be boring and repetitive. Taeyong was practically trembling. He had both of his hands over his face, wide, uncertain eyes peeking out timidly from between his index and middle fingers. 

You had to sink your teeth into your lip in order to subdue the large grin threatening to break across your face. 

Fuck, he’s too adorable. 

Unable to resist, you allowed a curious hand to wander towards his leg. With a brush so subtle it could’ve been mistaken for a breeze, you traced a finger over the seam of his pants. But, with his senses on high alert, it wasn’t a sensation he missed. He jolted violently, head swinging in your direction. There was fear in his eyes, but it quickly melted into relief else once he realized it was you and not some demon. 

Then his eyes drifted to where your finger lingered, hovering over his clothed thigh, and the relief transformed into something else entirely. Something hot and shameful and desperate, something he tried to hide behind frantically fluttering eyelids and quivering lips. But it was unmistakable. 

You lifted your brows, a silent question swirling in your gaze. He swallowed, breath coming out in quick, shallow huffs as the unnameable emotion thickened inside of him, then he nudged his leg shyly towards you. The air you didn’t realize you were holding in your lungs rushed out in one quick exhale, a subtle smirk curling onto your lips as excitement swirled in your gut. Taeyong sucked his lower lip into his mouth as your open palm landed boldly on his lower thigh, fingers pressing gently into the clothed muscle just above his knee. 

For a few minutes, it remained there, not moving any lower or any high, simply resting on his leg and he found himself relaxing beneath your touch. The heat of your hand was a welcome –comforting, even– distraction from the horror movie that had progressed to the point in the plot where the reckless characters put themselves directly into the line of danger instead of taking the intelligent path that would help them avoid it all together. You could feel the tension returning to Taeyong’s muscles as suspense building music poured from the surround sound speakers. 

In a two sided attempt to both comfort and tease, you began gently massaging his thigh. His breath audibly hitched, gaze straying from the screen once more in favor of watching the slow, deliberate motion of your fingers squeezing around his leg. That alone was enough to set his long neglected desire to flames. It burned within him, hot and dangerous, turning his face a dark, flattering crimson. 

It was too much. He’d never been touched like this before. You weren’t even close to his crotch and he could still feel the distinctive hardening beneath the zipper of his jeans which were growing tighter and tighter with every passing moment. At this rate, he’d make a mess of himself before the movie even reached its climax. 

The mere thought of coming untouched was enough to make his head feel dizzy, a mixture of humiliation and heady lust licking at his nerves. 

He couldn’t believe he was feeling this way, in a room full of his friends no less. If one of them were to look over, even through darkness, it would be impossible to miss your hand laid across his lap or the feverish blush coating his face, illuminated by the dull light of the tv. 

Then, your hand shifted higher. It was a minute movement, couldn’t have been more than an inch or two. But it had his pulse spiking in his veins nonetheless, blood rushing downward. You gripped gently at the inside of his slim thigh, thumb tracing slow, calculated circles into the rough material of his jeans. He trembled beneath the teasing ministrations, jaw clenched to fight back the urge to moan as your curious touch wandered upwards once more. 

“Is this alright?” 

The question came unexpectedly, a sudden rush of warm breath hitting the curve of his throat. He sucked his lips into his mouth, shivering faintly at the low, rough sound of your voice, just quiet enough that none of the other men in the room could make it out. 

He offered a sharp, jerky nod, desperately heaving in deep breath through his nose. The corner of your mouth curled. 

“God you're shaking. Are you that sensitive? Or do you just get off on getting felt up in front of all your friends? How naughty.” You chuckled tauntingly, words borderline malicious. 

“I– I don’t— I’m not—” he swallowed, shaking his head frantically in denial of your words, despite the flames they ignited inside of him. 

“I think you are.” You purred, tracing your index finger lightly over his prominent bulge, eliciting a strangled moan from his trembling lips. He was fortunate enough that at the very moment the sound escaped, some ditzy bimbo began screaming her lungs out in the movie. Still, he slapped a hand over his offending lips, looking around frantically to see if anyone had heard his slip up. Luckily enough, it seemed they hadn’t. 

This was payback, he realized abruptly, this was payback for walking in on you showering. 

But even if it was— 

It felt too damn good. 

His head tipped back, hand surging to cover his burning face and stifle his whimpers as you suddenly gripped firmly at his clothed length. A low, appreciative hum thrummed through your chest as you felt him twitch, delighting in just how responsive he was to your touch. His thighs squeezed together, hips shuddering upwards as you mapped him out. 

The urge to set your teeth upon his neck was almost overwhelming, but you resisted only because it might draw some attention from the room’s other, currently oblivious, occupants. You doubted Yukhei would miss it, even if he was desperately hiding his eyes behind those astoundingly massive hands. 

But shit was it tempting. 

His pretty porcelain skin would look so good painted in varying shades of pink and red. So sweet and pure… you wanted to taint him. 

He couldn’t stop moving now, squirming and quivering in place. He was unraveling right before your eyes, and you were devouring it. What a sight… 

Warmth stirred in your belly, and you rolled your palm down. He jolted violently, then in the next second he was up on his feet. It happened so quickly that you nearly fell over, just barely catching yourself from falling into the spot he previously occupied. Yukhei shrieked in shock, throwing himself directly into Jaehyun’s lap. 

“Fuck, Taeyong! You almost gave me a heart attack!” Haechan shrilled, clutching a pillow against his chest. Instead of responding, Taeyong jerked forward, the movement sharp and robotic, like his body wasn’t quite caught up to his brain. 

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asked, squinting at him through the darkness. “And why do you look so—” 

“B- B- Bathroom!” Taeyong squeaked out abruptly. You could only watch with wide eyes and gaping lips as he proceeded to run out of the living room like his ass was on fire. 

“Movie must’ve freaked him out.” Johnny muttered. 

“It’s not even that bad.” Yukhei scoffed in a voice too high pitched for his words to sound believable, grunting when Jaehyun shoved him off of his lap. Noisy banter was quick ensue. Noisy and distracting enough for you to make a quick and silent escape without catching any of the other boys’ attention. 

“Taeyong?” You called softly, worry churning in your gut that you overstepped or upset him. “Tae, I’m sorry if I—” you gasped, words cutting off in your throat as a hand found your wrist and you were quickly tugged around the corner and into the unlit hallway. 

The motion was so unexpected you ended up tripping over your own feet, having to slam a hand against the wall to steady yourself. But it was only when you felt a rush of quick, warm breath against your face that you realized the position you’d gotten yourself into. Taeyong was standing in front of you, face flushed a feverish shade of red, faint perspiration glistening on his skin, and he was standing with his spine flush against the wall, effectively caged in by your body. And he was looking at you. 

Really looking at you. 

With the kind of eyes that had something tightening deliciously in the pit of your stomach, chills of excitement ricocheting through your veins. 

“Tae?” His name was less than a breath on your lips, laced with an unspoken question. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, fluttering gaze dancing across your face. 

“I almost…” he swallowed, shivering voice tapering off as he became overwhelmed by the proximity. He could smell your shampoo, a subtle, smoky-vanilla kind of scent that made his head feel dizzy. “I almost c- came.” 

The corner of your mouth swirled, both amused and charmed by the way he whispered the word, tone so innocent and shy that the filthy meaning behind it almost became misconstrued in your head. 

“Do you want to come, Taeyong?” You asked quietly, jutting a knee forward to press between his thighs. He gasped, trembling lips silently caressing the shape of your name as his hands shot forward, clutching desperately onto the sides of your shirt. A shy nod was all he could muster, the words feeling far too dirty to say aloud. But you weren’t satisfied. 

“Say it.” You murmured, nose brushing against his. His breath hitched at the command, warmth flushing through his veins beneath the staggering heat of your dark, hooded gaze. “If you want it, say it. If you don’t, tell me now.” 

“I want it!” He said quickly, only to flush and shrink in on himself, taken aback by his own outburst. Licking his lips, he repeated himself in a much softer voice, “I– I want it.” 

You let out a low hum, curving a gentle hand around his jaw. “Can I kiss you?” 

A shock ran through his body, his wide eyes snapping down to trace to soft lines of your mouth. “Yes.” He breathed, suddenly desperate for a taste of your lips. You didn’t deny him. 

The first brush of your lips against his is light, delicate… teasing. It made his knees tremble, fierce anticipation and wild desire running rampant through him. He opened up for you like a goddamn flower in bloom, melting sweetly when you applied even the slightest bit more pressure. His mouth was soft and warm, his kiss shy. And there was something ever so endearing about the way he clutched at your top like it was the only thing keeping him upright. 

You kept the pace deliberately slow, relishing in the soft moans that fluttered from his chest as you sucked his lower lip into your mouth, gently sinking your teeth into the sensitive flesh. He was wracked by a violent full body shiver when you licked over the seam of his lip. 

God he’s adorable. 

His strong reactions made you wonder if he’d ever been kissed like this before. Or, perhaps, this was a new experience entirely. 

“Taeyong.” He whimpered when you abruptly broke away from the kiss, but you ignored it. “Are you a virgin?” 

His eyes widened, a deep red flooding his cheeks. Then, he nodded, gaze dropping to the floor as the tips of his ears darkened. 

Wicked excitement curled in your gut, heat licking at your veins at the thought of being the first to corrupt such a sweet… innocent… 

“Have you ever been touched before?” 

He shook his head, chest pressing against your with every jagged inhale he drew into his lungs. 

You dipped a hand between your bodies, trailing teasingly down his stomach. “Would you like to be touched?” Your voice had dropped at least an octave, a low, rasping whisper that nearly made him keen. 

“Yes.” A devious grin settled across your lips at the quickness of his reply. Didn’t even need to think that one over, huh? 

You slid your hand over his crotch, feeling his hips buck uncontrollably when you squeezed. “Just looking at you,” you began, toying with his zipper, “I never would’ve guessed what a little slut you are.” 

“I- I’m not a slut.” He whimpered, digging his fingers into your waist. 

“Aren’t you, though?” You popped the button of his jeans. “I mean, take a good look at yourself, Yongie; letting yourself get felt up and teased by your best friend’s roommate while they’re just in the next room over. Seems pretty slutty to me.” 

Taeyong couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped his chest at the degrading word, his cock twitching within the confines of his boxers. Slipping a finger beneath the elastic, you tugged it away from his skin, letting out a playful coo when his weeping pink tip peeked out. The blush on his face intensified tenfold, both of his hands dropping down instinctively to cover himself. But you were faster, snatching his wrists and pinning them against the wall on either side of his head. 

“Don’t even think about it.” 

Shivering, he offered a compliant nod. 

“Good boy.” 

He barely had time to form a reaction to the praise before he felt you around him, stroking and caressing. The responding moan that burst from his lips was loud— too loud. You were quick to cover his gaping mouth, successfully muffling the series of succeeding gasps and whimpers. 

“Careful, sweetheart,” you clicked your tongue, watching the way his eyes fluttered and rolled as you tightened your grip around his cock, “you wouldn’t want your hyungs to find out what a little slut you’re being, now would you? Mark was so kind, inviting you into his home… How do you think he’d feel if he were to see you taking advantage of his hospitality, getting your pretty little cock played with by his roommate? How shameless...” 

Taeyong whimpered, and you felt the gentle press of his lips against your palm, followed by a meek flick of his tongue. He was looking at you now, really looking at you, with the kind of pathetic, wanting eyes that never failed to make your skin burn in excitement. You wondered if you could make him cry, overwhelm him with pleasure to the point where he couldn’t keep his emotions at bay. The desire to ruin him was almost unbearable. 

Swirling your thumb over his tip, you slotted a leg between his, pressing up against him from underneath. He nearly keened at the pressure, hips rolling greedily over your thigh, simultaneously pumping his cock into your closed fist. Heaven, this must be heaven. Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to succumb to his desires so readily, with such… enthusiasm. But this Taeyong surprised you at every turn. You’d thought he’d be shy, reserved, hesitant to give in, but here he was, riding your thigh and fucking your hand like his life depended on it, his muffled moans pulsing beneath your palm. 

It’d be a flat out lie to say you weren’t beyond turned on. 

There was a slick warmth building between your thighs, soaking into the fabric of your underwear, and tight knots in your stomach, threatening to burst at any given moment. The knowledge that less than thirty feet away, your roommate and all his friends were gathered and one stray moan from the crumbling man before you could give away all the filthy things you were doing to him stroked the lustful flames blazing through your blood. One glimpse into those hooded, glassy brown eyes told you he was suffering from a similar burn. 

“Turn around.” You demanded, somewhat breathless as you tore your hands off of him. A low whimper escaped past trembling lips at the loss of stimulation, a shiver rippling down his spine as his hard, abandoned cock swung through empty air. Regardless, he was quick to comply, spinning himself around and pressing his palms flat against the wall. You hummed a praise, pleased with his eager compliance, rewarding him with your touch. He gasped, forced to sink his teeth into his lip to stifle his whimpers as your hands slipped over his body: one returning to stroke his dick while the other pushed beneath the material of his top, venturing up to his chest where your fingers set to toying with his sensitive nipples. 

“(y/n)—” he moaned your name desperately, rocking his body back against yours as overwhelming pleasure pulsed through his veins. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” you chuckled darkly, splaying a steadying palm across his hips as they began grinding back into yours, “you sound like you're about to burst.” 

He moaned, shuddering when you caressed his sensitive tip, and an idea struck you. 

“Can you do something for me, Tae?” You asked, voice a low, rasping against the shell of his ear. “Can you suck?” 

Any short lived confusion dissipated from his mind when he felt your fingers nudging at the soft flesh of his lips. A deep blush flooded into his cheeks, but his mouth opened nonetheless, shyly taking your digits inside. 

“There you go…” you purred, feeling his tongue lick delicately at the pads of your middle and ring finger. He sucked, and you lowered your head to press slow, encouraging kisses laced with whispered praises to the juncture of his throat. You felt the soft vibrations of his muffled moans quivering through your knuckles and against your lips. He was shaking, the stimulation to his cock causing violent tremors to wrack his body. He wasn’t far off from release, you could tell as much by the way he was twitching and the slow increase in volume of his sounds. 

But you weren’t finished yet. 

Not by a long shot. 

You pulled your fingers from his mouth, the suction of his lips giving with a lewd, wet pop. A filthy sound coming from such innocent lips. 

Leaning forward, you nipped gently at the shell of his red tinted ear, hand releasing his dick in favor of venturing beneath the hem of his pants. You heard his breath hitched and offered quietly, “Tell me if you want me to stop.” 

Taeyong nodded in understanding, but offered no resistance as you pushed the thick denim down over the soft curve of his ass. His shoulders jumped, a gasp shooting from his lips when you slid a saliva soaked finger between his cheeks, coming to the abrupt realization of what your intentions were. 

“O– oh—” 

“Is this alright?” 

He swallowed, glancing back at you from over his shoulder. “I– I’ve never…” 

You soothed a hand down the front of his thigh, “it’s okay if you don’t want to.” 

There was no judgement in your tone, rather a gentleness to the reassurance that put his buzzing nerves at ease. “That’s not it,” he shook his head, gnawing at the corner of his lip as a soft pink crept across his cheeks, “j– just…” 

“Just?” 

Taeyong drew in a deep, trembling breath. Your furrowed brows shot to your hairline, heat twisting in your gut as he suddenly bent himself over, sticking his ass out, practically fucking presenting himself to you. “B- be gentle…” he whispered shyly, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. 

Steam would surely start coming out of your nose if your temperature rose any further. This is fucking ridiculous. How was it possible for a man to be so cute yet so sexy all at once? This couldn’t be good for your health… 

Smirking deviously, you settled a palm between his shoulder blades, pressing down ever so slightly and watching as he delicately arched his spine. “I’m always gentle.” 

A hiccuping moan rushed from his chest at the first careful press of your finger, his brows furrowing deeply as his muscles tightened in response to the foreign stretch. 

“Relax, sweetheart.” You reminded lightly, settling soothing kisses across his shoulder. He drew in a series of deep breaths, allowing himself to adjust to the sensation of having something inside of him while melting into the tender caress of your cool lips across his feverish skin. You felt the slow dissipation of tension, felt the way he melted beneath you. “There you go…” you cooed, easing into him until your knuckle before allowing him a few moments to adjust. 

He was panting, forehead thudding softly against the wall as his hips trembled, a strange but not unpleasant feeling sparking to life inside of him. 

“Oh…” it was a barely audible sound, soft and breathless of shuddering lips. But you didn’t miss it, didn’t miss the way his shoulders drooped, his walls tight relaxing ever so faintly around the intruding digit. The corner of your mouth curled upwards in a salacious smirk, and you curled your finger experimentally. 

His reaction was instantaneous, a moan of surprise entwined with unexpected pleasure rushing from his flush throat. He glanced back at you from over his shoulder, eyes wide and trembling, hazy with an emotion you immediately recognized as pure, unfiltered lust. Your grin widened, almost triumphant as you whispered, “feel that?” 

He nodded rapidly, a gasp of breath wracking his chest. “Yes,” his hands were curling into fists where they were braced against the plaster wall. 

“Wanna feel it again?” 

The sound he let out was a combination of several things, keening and desperate for the sensation he’d never before experienced. “Please. Please.” 

It was impossible to say anything but yes when he begged like that. 

You rewarded him by stretching him out around a second finger, his knees nearly giving out when you thrust them in as deep as they would go. He was an absolute mess, forced to slap a quivering hand over his gaping mouth when his teeth proved insufficient at keeping his sounds in. You were enjoying yourself perhaps a little too much, enjoying watching him slowly crumble, enjoying watching his innocence shatter into tiny irreparable pieces on the floor beside glistening drops of precum. He was just too irresistible… 

“You’re about to come, aren’t you?” He was nodding before you even finished the question, muffled moans and sobs escaping through his fingers as he fucked himself back onto yours. You curve a hand around the shape of his jaw, tugging his head back at an angle that surely causes a strain in his neck, and slot your lips into his. Shoving your tongue down his throat proves a far more efficient means of keeping him quiet. 

But when you curled your fingers inside of him, subsequently stroking that sensitive bundle of nerves, even your mouth wasn’t enough to stifle the shriek of pleasure that burst from his throat. You were hoping the screams you heard emulating from the other room were enough to drown it out. 

“Keep your voice down.” You all but snarled, curling a hand around his throat. 

“I- I can’t— oh god, it feels so g- good.” He babbled, voice strained from the sheer effort of trying to keep himself from crying out in bliss. “I’m g- gonna come— I’m gonna c- come—” the sound of him choking on his words, gasping for breath around the added resistance of your restricting hold was even hotter than you imagined it would be. 

“Gone on, sweetheart. Let me see you make a mess of yourself.” You kissed the shell of his ear, deciding then to have mercy and offer his pathetic, weeping cock a helping hand. He was finished the moment your fingers grazed his tip, struck with an orgasm so powerful it had his knees buckling beneath the weight of his quivering body. 

His jaw when slack, unleashing every pent up sound he’d managed to keep bottled up thus far. They came rushing out of him too quickly to stop, not that you made much of an effort. You were enjoying the way he was moaning your name like it was his saving grace far too much to care whether or not the other boys were hearing. In fact, the thought of them hearing their sweet, innocent Taeyong whimpering like a bitch in heat, moaning your name, gave you an unexpected rush of delight. 

You didn’t stop fucking your fingers into his tight little hole until you were certain you’d milked him for all he was worth, until he was reduced to little more than a trembling, whimpering mess against your chest, barely able to keep himself upright. 

“Oh my g- god.” He murmured shakily, head falling back to rest on your shoulder. 

A low chuckle slid from your lips as you gently released his spent cock, simultaneously pulling out of him. He winced faintly, whining weakly at the unpleasant emptiness that ensued. 

“That felt pretty good didn’t it?” You teased. 

He bit his lip, humming airily as he melted into your hold. 

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Taeyong?” Your words danced over the curve of his throat, flooding his senses with the fluttering implication. Blushing, he nodded, a shy bob of his head that caused the sweat soaked fringes of his bangs to fall over his eyes, clinging delicately to his pretty eyelashes. “Words?” 

“I—” he swallowed, gaze flitting as his face reddened further, “I’m a g- good boy.” 

You mouth curled deviously. Holding your come covered hand up to his panting mouth, you whispered against the shell of his ear, “good boys clean up their mess.” 

His breath hitched, wide eyes jumping over to meet yours. You held his gaze boldly, cocking an expectant brow. Then, ever so lightly, his tongue dipped out from between red bitten lips, kitten licking his come from your fingertips. You could’ve come right then and there, watching him shyly lap his own release from your hand. Honestly you would’ve been happy to stay like that all night, his tongue tracing the lines of your palm, caressing your knuckles… 

But then the doorbell rang, and someone cleared their throat in the other room. 

“Uh… foods here.” 

Taeyong leapt away from you with a gasp, flushing deeply as his hands flew to tuck himself back into his jeans. 

“D- do you think they—” his voice cracked and he coughed as crimson crept up his neck. 

You smirked, not in the least bit ashamed. 

“Oh, definitely.”

A/N; well i dropped off the face of the earth, sorry about that loves. but i think you’ll be happy to know that i have a number of wip sitting in drafts, should i tease the banners? 

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

7 times Merlin shows off his skills as a Physician,

+1 time The Knights have to work together to stitch Merlin up.

TW: Lots of blood and graphic description of injury/sickness.

1)

The patrol had been going perfectly fine, even the small skirmish with a group of bandits was over and done with pretty quickly.

It was when the knights were taking stock of things after the fight that Elyan found Gwaine struggling to stand, leaning his weight against a tree and owlishly blinking his eyes with a look of deep concentration on his face.

Elyan put a soft hand on his back, quietly saying Gwaine’s name. The other knight whips his head up quickly to look at him, and the movement almost toppled him, but Elyan catches him with a hand on each shoulder and raised an eyebrow. Gwaine stares at him with squinted eyes, slurring his words as he slowly says:

“Elyan, mate, I don’t mean to uh... freak you out, but... there’s like... a whole bunch of you.”

It’s then that Elyan finally notices the slow trickle of blood from behind Gwaine’s ear, dribbling down his neck, he keeps hold of Gwaine’s shoulder as he looks behind him:

“Merlin! Gwaine hit his head!”

Elyan looks back around when he hears the knight gasp, to see him looking at him with wide eyes:

“Fuck, did I?? That’s not good, someone should.... should call Merlin.”

Elyan just bites his lip to stop himself from laughing, and nods sympathetically, as if agreeing with him. Gwaine slumps back against the tree and Elyan helps him sit down as Arthur and Merlin finally rush over.

Elyan moves out of the way, and Merlin crouches in front of the injured knight, setting his medical bag next to him as he takes Gwaine’s face in soft hands.

Gwaine gives him a bleary grin as Merlin checks his pupils and huffs:

“You... are very pretty.”

Merlin would have been happy to ignore Gwaine’s nonsense, but flushes slightly when he hears Elyan and Arthur snort behind him. He scowls at them briefly over his shoulder before beginning to clean the wound behind Gwaine’s ear, and checking for any further injury. The other knights gather around, having checked over the bandits for anything of interest, and Percival is the first to speak:

“He’ll be fine, won’t he, Merlin?”

Before Merlin can answer, Gwaine lifts a clumsy hand to pat the physician’s head with a shit-eating grin on his face:

“You know who is fine? This guy, very very fine.”

Merlin chuckles as he blushes, taking Gwaine’s hand and putting it back in the knight’s lap. The others laugh behind him but Merlin ignores them as he works, keeping his gaze on the wound, but speaking to Gwaine:

“Thank you Gwaine, but why don’t you keep your hands to yourself for a few hours?”

Gwaine huffs and pouts, looking very much like a child, but nods when Merlin smiles at him. Merlin finishes up, cleaning his hands as he stands, looking to the knights behind him:

“He’s got a pretty big concussion so he can’t fall asleep for the next twelve hours or so. He might feel nauseous at some point, and his balance will be way off, so I’ll ride with him. We need to keep getting water in him, but other than that, there’s not much we can do until it clears up. He’ll have a banging headache for a few days.”

Arthur nods, trusting Merlin’s judgement and gesturing Leon and Percival forward to help the knight up. Thankfully, they were on the tail end of their patrol and can just ride straight back to the city, but everyone takes great amusement in Gwaine’s slurred and nonsensical flirting with Merlin. That is, until the concussed knight turns his attention to Percival, and devotes his shoddy pick-up lines to the flushed giant, at which point it goes from mildly amusing, to absolutely hilarious.

2)

Everyone worries when Leon doesn’t show up to training.

Gwaine being an hour late? Not a worry. Leon not being early? Definitely a worry.

But when Lancelot sprints back to the training field after being sent to check on him, calling Merlin’s name desperately, everyone’s worry gets vastly amplified.

Merlin runs up to meet him halfway across the field, brow furrowed in worry. Lance rests his hands on his knees for a moment, struggling to speak through his quick breathing:

“He’s... there’s something wrong with him, I... I think he’s sick.”

Merlin immediately starts a quick paced journey back up to the castle, sprinting even quicker than Lancelot in his panic; Arthur and the others follow behind him, having not heard the conversation but turning understandably panicked at Merlin’s reaction.

When they finally catch up to him, he’s sat on the side of Leon’s bed, checking his breathing and pulse with a frown on his face. The knight is practically catatonic, eyes shut tightly, murmuring and twitching in his sleep, drenched in sweat and shivering.

Merlin looks back with a gulp to Arthur, stood by the door with a worried expression:

“I need you to go to Gaius’ chambers and pick up my bag. It’s fully stocked, I re-did it last night and it should have everything I need, but I can’t leave him.”

Arthur’s eyes widen at Merlin’s last words, obviously realising how sick Leon is, but Merlin’s harsh-

“NOW, Arthur!”

-breaks him out of his stupor, and he sprints away in the direction of the Physician’s chambers. The other knights, a breathless Lancelot having finally joined them, go to crowd into the room, but Merlin looks up at them, sternly saying:

“No, everyone out, it’s probably contagious, and with Gaius in the lower-town I do not have enough hands to treat all of you at once. Out.”

They all reluctantly file out of the room, but leave the door open, and Merlin rolls his eyes fondly as they all stand in the hallway, staring at their sick friend with furrowed brows and bitten lips.

Leon mumbles something and shifts in his sleep. Merlin looks back down at him, wiping the sweat slicked hair away from his forehead and rubbing a soft hand up and down his arm. The knight blearily opens his eyes, breaths shallow and rasping as his hand twitches towards Merlin. The younger man gives him a soft smile, hiding his worry as he takes Leon’s hand in his own. Leon relaxes slightly at that, blinking at him confusedly as he mutters:

“Mer...lin? I don’t... don’t feel... great.”

Merlin nods, stroking the back of Leon’s hand as he softly replies:

“I know, Leon, I’ve got you. You’ll be fine in no time, alright? Just go back to sleep.”

Leon nods slightly, and closes his eyes again, trusting Merlin’s words. His hand goes limp in Merlin’s once again and the physician swallows worriedly.

Arthur finally runs back in with Merlin’s bag clutched tightly in his hands. He’s breathing deeply, and at Merlin’s gesture, gently chucks the bag to him from the middle of the room, retreating again to stand by the door.

Merlin turns his attention back to Leon, rummaging through his bag, as Arthur asks, the concern clear in his voice:

“What else do you need, Merlin?”

Merlin doesn’t looks up at him as he pulls various supplies out form his bag, checking Leon’s breathing periodically:

“I need a few changes of clothes, a patient pallet brought up from Gaius’ chambers, a constant supply of cold water and clean cloths, and a spare chamber-pot; he’s almost certainly going to throw up at some point.”

Arthur nods, going out to speak to the knights. He sends Percival and Gwaine to the physician’s chambers to bring back some of Merlin’s clothes and a pallet, sends Mordred to talk to the steward about having a servant outside Leon’s chambers constantly so Merlin could have whatever he needed, whenever he needed it, and sends Elyan to rummage through the storage rooms for a spare chamber-pot. 

He walks slowly back into the room, but still keeps his distance, fidgeting harshly with his hands as he gulps, quietly, but worriedly asking:

“Will he be alright??”

Merlin, still not looking up from Leon and his bag, replies softly:

“He should be ok, but I need to keep an eye on him. I’ll be sleeping in here until he’s better, and I won’t be joining you at all until he’s at least up and walking around. Gaius should be back day after tomorrow, so try not to get injured until then, otherwise go to Gwen, she’s got a pretty good understanding of basic treatment. Shut the door behind you.”

Arthur nods mutely, understanding Merlin’s dismissal, and walking from the room silently. He turns back, quietly saying:

“They’ll be a servant out here to fetch anything you need. Thank you, Merlin.”

Merlin nods distractedly, focused on mixing some sort of paste in a bowl as Arthur sighs, and shuts the door behind him.

It was about two weeks before Merlin moved out of Leon’s chambers, but it was at least a month before he stopped periodically, almost subconsciously, reaching for the knight’s wrist to check his pulse. There had been a few scares, when his pulse was so weak that Merlin could barely feel it; he lost a lot of sleep over those first two weeks, too afraid to close his eyes in case Leon stopped breathing, and too concerned about his friend to let another physician take over.

Leon found it endearing, but didn’t mention it when he noticed Merlin coincidentally bumping into him multiple times a day and finding excuses to touch his fingers to his wrist or neck, even briefly.

He was fine in the end, thanks to Merlin’s thorough treatment, but it was a scary couple of weeks, when having to think about burying Leon was a genuine worry.

(The knight also demanded that Merlin be given a week off from his manservant duties when he was feeling better, which Arthur eagerly agreed to. Though he did spend almost the entire time trailing Leon round like a lost puppy, under the guise of “making sure he didn’t overdo it”.)

3)

Since he had arrived back in Camelot, Elyan had been spending more and more time in the family’s Blacksmith’s.

He felt the need to fill the void that his father had left in the old forge, and he enjoyed returning to his roots; there was something therapeutic about being surrounded by fire and hot metal once again.

But his years away from it all made him a little clumsy, having lost a little of the instinctual caution he had when he was a teenager. Which is what led him to be sat on a bench in the Physician’s chambers, watching with fond amusement as Merlin fretted and gathered various dressings and bandages.

The burn on Elyan’s arm was serious enough to need more than just cold water, but it was definitely not serious enough to warrant such worry from the Warlock.

He finally came to stand between Elyan’s legs, checking over the burn with soft hands after placing everything he had gathered on the table next to him.

Merlin looked up at the knight, and Elyan had to stop himself frowning at the man’s worry, and was that... fear?

He finally cleared his throat, glancing away briefly before saying:

“I uh... I could lessen the pain a little with magic, if you’re ok with that. But I have more than enough supplies to treat it normally if you don’t want me to, it’s really no-”

Elyan cuts him off with a gentle hand on the shoulder and a soft smile:

“It’s fine, Merlin. We trust you, remember? If you think your magic can help, then by all means, go ahead. I trust you.”

Merlin lets out a breath, relaxing as he nods and returns Elyan’s smile with a weak one of his own. He had only told the truth about his magic a few weeks ago, and things were still a little... raw. After what happened to his father, Merlin was expecting Elyan to be one of the least accepting of the sorcery, and he wasn’t wrong at first, but after a few harsh words from Gwen about all the times Merlin had saved her, and about how hard Merlin had tried to save Tom, Elyan did a complete switch, and became one of The Warlock’s most ardent defenders.

Elyan marvelled at the warmth spreading down his arm as Merlin’s eyes glowed gold and he muttered a few incantations. The burn was still there, but it seemed cleaner, and definitely hurt less. Merlin followed up his magic with some burn salve and carefully wrapped bandages, looking up at Elyan with relief in his eyes at the knight’s fond, trusting smile.

He continued his bustling around the chambers under Elyan’s amused watch, returning with a few small tinctures:

“Take one of these a day, starting this evening; it’ll help with the pain overnight. Come back the day after tomorrow and I’ll re-bandage it. Let me know if... uh, you want me to... you know-”

He wiggles his fingers vaguely, and Elyan raises an amused eyebrow at him, slowly saying:

“Re-do the magic?”

Merlin bites his lip and nods slightly. Elyan gives him a wide grin, hopping off the bench and ruffling Merlin’s hair:

“Will do, Merls. Thank you.”

With that, the knight walks cheerfully out of the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving a very happy, slightly less worried Warlock/Physician/Servant behind

4)

A particularly impressive move from Lancelot and a misstep from Arthur is what leads to The King sat on the grass with a belt between his teeth and Merlin stood behind him, one hand reached around and flat on his chest, the other on his shoulder-blade.

Lancelot is understandably freaking out, and Arthur is half focussed on how impressed he is, and half focussed on the stabbing pain in his shoulder.

Merlin moves his hand slightly and Arthur groans around the belt, biting down as the servant mutters an apology:

“Sorry. This is gonna hurt like a bitch but I need you to stay as still as possible, ok?-”

Arthur nods slightly, mumbling something that sounds like “just get on with it”, but it’s hard to understand with a mouth stuffed with leather:

“-Alright, on three, ok? One, TWO-”

On two, Merlin pushes Arthur’s arm back into it’s socket with a sickening pop, and The King groans even louder, squeezing his eyes shut and biting down on the belt in his pain. The knights all wince in sympathy, Leon putting a soft hand on Arthur’s other shoulder as the man breathes deeply.

After a few moments, Merlin straightens the arm, moving it round in a circle to make sure everything is where it’s meant to be, before grabbing the sling he’d had Percival hold, and wrapping Arthur’s arm carefully, letting it hang against his chest.

Arthur finally spits the belt out, grimacing as he flexes his shoulder slightly. Merlin puts a hand back on his shoulder, eyes glowing gold as he mutters a spell. The blond lets out a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding at the blissful numbness spreading from his shoulder, down his arm and across his back, before looking up at an almost hysterical Lancelot.

Arthur chuckles at Lance’s face, shaking his head slightly as he says:

“Very impressive, Lancelot, though if you could save that for enemies, that would be great.”

Lancelot finally bursts, not seeming to have heard Arthur’s praise:

“Ar- Your Majesty I am so sorry, I really didn’t mean to-”

Arthur waves his free hand in dismissal, taking Mordred’s offered hand and standing up, still with an impressed smile on his face:

“Don’t be stupid Lance, like I said, it was very impressive, and with Merlin around there’s no harm done.-”

Merlin grins and blushes at the subtle compliment.

“-Besides, I dole out at least one injury a month, it’s about time one of you got me back. Well done Lance, you beat everyone else.”

He says it with a grin, and Lancelot finally relaxes slightly, raking a hand through his hair as he gives the amused King a weak smile, much to the other knights’ amusement. Merlin steps back in front of Arthur adjusting the sling and speaking forcefully:

“No training at all for a week, no full contact sparring or skirmishes with bandits for two. And I want to check it again before you start.”

Arthur’s face falls indignantly and he whines:

“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad! It doesn’t even hurt that much.”

Merlin scowls:

“Yeah, it doesn’t hurt because I numbed it with magic, prat.”

Arthur looks like he wants to argue, but Merlin just raises an eyebrow (very reminiscent of Gaius), the meaning of “I dare you to argue with me right now” VERY clear.

Arthur backs down, muttering a petulant “fine” under his breath, much to the knights’ amusement.

5)

To say that Mordred was panicking would be a vast understatement.

But to be fair, everyone was panicking.

Everyone thought that the fight had gone rather well, finally surviving a battle with mercenaries injury free, that was until Mordred had tried to stand up, only to find that he couldn’t breath, and his chest hurt.

Tears leaked from his eyes as he lay on the ground, squeezing Arthur’s hand so tightly The King was sure it would bruise; but he didn’t care about that, all he cared about was running his free hand over the younger man’s armour, desperately trying to figure out what was wrong.

Mordred took in shallow, gasping breaths, his vision swimming as the stabbing pain in his chest spiked with every movement. He had been calling out for Emrys in his head, unable to speak, and finally the panicked man burst through the trees, pushing through the crowd of knights and dropping to his knees at Mordred’s side.

He’d wondered off an hour or so ago to collect some herbs for Gaius, and had missed the whole fight, though he’d begun his sprint back when Mordred had called out for him at the start of the battle, pushing himself even faster when it became apparent that the younger man was badly injured.

Arthur immediately looks up at him, but doesn’t let go of Mordred’s hand as he speaks quickly, only just managing to keep the shaking out of his voice:

“He can’t breath properly, I think he got kicked in the chest but there’s no blood or anything, I don’t know what’s wrong with him Merlin, he can’t breath.”

Merlin curses under his breath, wiping Mordred’s hair away from his face as he rushes to say:

“Help me get his armour off, someone grab me my smallest knife and a roll of bandages, now.”

With that, Percival rushes to the dropped medical bag, riffling through it for what Merlin had asked for as Gwaine and Elyan rush to remove Mordred’s armour, and Leon and Lancelot move to stand guard, watching for any more attackers.

Mordred whimpers every time he’s jostled, but Merlin and Arthur hush him, squeezing his hand and stroking his hair. With the focused look on Merlin’s face, Arthur can tell that he’s talking to the Druid through their mental link, so doesn’t say anything, knowing that it’s probably the only thing stopping Mordred from panicking even more.

The armour finally comes off, and Merlin quickly puts his ear to Mordred’s chest, cursing to himself once more as he holds his hand out wordlessly for the knife.

Percival puts it in his hand without hesitation, and Merlin quickly cuts Mordred’s tunic away before hovering the sharp point over the side of his chest, looking up to Elyan and Gwaine still kneeled at his side and saying:

“Hold him down, he can NOT move when I do this.”

They don’t ask what “this” is, trusting that he knows what he’s doing as Gwaine moves to straddle Mordred’s thighs and hold his hips down, and Elyan pushes his shoulders into the floor. Arthur leans over to take both of Mordred’s hands tightly in his own, and without any more hesitation, Merlin pushes the blade down into Mordred’s chest with a soft apology.

Mordred whimpers even more, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, and letting out a pained yelp when Merlin twists the knife slightly. With the movement, there’s a hiss of air, and Mordred takes a deep, gasping breath.

Merlin relaxes slightly, and nods at the others to let go. Gwaine and Elyan move back, but Arthur stays, holding Mordred’s hands and trying to cover the disgust on his face as Merlin holds the knife in place.

Mordred finally opens his eyes, and Merlin gives him a reassuring smile before looking to Elyan:

“Elyan, you’ve got the steadiest hands, I need you to hold this-”

He nods down at the knife, and Elyan’s eyes widen in panic before he gulps and nods his head, carefully taking the knife from Merlin’s hands, and holding it place. Merlin moves to where Elyan had been sat, above Mordred’s head, and he leans down, moving his ear from one side of the Druid’s chest to the other, careful to avoid Elyan’s hands holding the knife.

He listens to each side for about ten seconds each time, moving between them a few times, before finally sitting up and nodding to himself in satisfaction. He grabs the roll from Percival’s shaking hands, once again wiping the hair from Mordred’s forehead and giving him a reassuring smile, before looking back up at Elyan:

“Pull it out when I say go, ok? Straight out, don’t twist it, don’t bend your wrist, just straight out.-”

Elyan nods firmly and at Merlin’s-

“-Go!”

-he pulls the knife out, quickly getting out of the way as Merlin presses one hand over the wound, eyes glowing gold as he mutters a spell. Mordred lets out a breath as he’s relieved form the pain slightly, closing his eyes briefly before Merlin says:

“No, come on Mordred, I need you to stay awake, I need to know that you’re ok whilst I do this alright? You can sleep later, I promise.”

Mordred nods slightly as he opens his still teary eyes, and Arthur leans closer, smiling at him and asking some unimportant question about what he wants for his birthday coming up. Merlin gives the King a grateful smile as he brings his hand away from the bloody wound, glad to see that the spell had worked and the bleeding had slowed considerably.

With the help of Gwaine and Elyan, Merlin gets Mordred into a sitting position, wrapping the bandages tightly around his chest, periodically checking his pulse and breathing with his hand.

He ties it off, letting a breath of relief escape him as he collapses back onto the floor. Mordred is slumped against Arthur, groaning as he desperately tries to keep his eyes open, but Merlin presses a hand to his forehead, eyes once again glowing gold as he mutters:

“Sleep.”

The younger man passes out pretty much immediately, and Arthur supports his weight, giving Merlin a concerned, questioning look. The Warlock meets his gaze, giving him a weak smile and nod:

“Collapsed lung, had to release the pressure. He’ll be fine, but infection is a concern so I need to get him back to Camelot as soon as possible.”

Arthur nods, and with a gesture from him, Leon and Lancelot lean down to pick the younger man up, carefully depositing him on the front of Arthur’s horse, to be taken back to the castle.

Merlin looks around to the others, noticing the shaking that had slowly started in Elyan’s hands as he stares down at the blood coating his fingers. Merlin touches a soft hand to his shoulder, and Elyan gasps, looking up at him quickly with wide eyes. Merlin gives him a smile, hovering his hand over Elyan’s as he murmurs a spell.

The knight looks down again to see his hands completely clean, and he flexes his fingers, before giving Merlin a tight smile, and muttering a quiet thank you.

Everyone mounts their horses, quickly urging them to follow Arthur back to Camelot.

6)

Lancelot was trying his best not to wince, but his wrist really did hurt.

They’d just made camp; Merlin, Lancelot, and Arthur were on their way back from visiting Hunith in Ealdor for a few days.

Originally it was meant to just be Merlin and Lance, but Arthur insisted that he come along for extra protection. All three of them knew it was just an excuse (Merlin was the most powerful Warlock in existence after all) but no one mentioned it. It had taken months and a lot of sleepless nights for Arthur to finally get the magic ban repeal through, and Lance and Merlin knew he needed a few days off, with no worries or responsibilities or titles or stupid crowns or councillors or meetings, so they were happy to have him tag along.

The knight must have sprained it when fixing the barn roof, but was reluctant to say anything; he didn’t want to put a dampener on the mood, and Hunith had been so accommodating, he didn’t want to be a bother. But when Merlin noticed him struggling to remove his saddle-bag with one hand, he raised an eyebrow, and held his hand out wordlessly.

Lancelot went to fake innocence, but Merlin just raised his eyebrow further and crooked his fingers. The knight sighed, putting his wrist in Merlin’s hand with nothing but a sheepish look. The Court Sorcerer ran his fingers over the soft skin there, noting the bruise with a disapproving tut before he mutters a spell.

His eyes flash gold, and Lance flexes his wrist as both the pain and bruise recede. He nods with a smile:

“You’re getting better at that.”

Merlin just huffs and rolls his eyes:

“Yes, well, you knights do insist on giving me plenty of opportunities to practice.-”

Lancelot huffs out a brief laugh, before he quietly apologises. Merlin just shakes his head with a smile:

“-It’ll still be tender for a few days, so don’t use it too much, Physician’s orders.”

Lancelot smirks slightly, and Merlin knows he isn’t going to like what he says:

“Of course, anything you say My Lord.”

Merlin scowls and squeezes the knight’s wrist slightly, muttering-

“I will turn you into a fucking toad.”

-much to Lancelot’s amusement.

Arthur finally reappears from collecting firewood, and raises an eyebrow at Merlin’s scowl and Lancelot’s laughter:

“What are you two up to, or do I not want to know?”

Merlin huffs and stomps off to collect his saddle-bag, and Lancelot clears his throat, still chuckling as he replies:

“Hmm. It would appear that Lord Merlin Emrys Ambrosius, Court Sorcerer of Camelot, Protector of the Once and Future King, Last of the Dragon-Lords, is not all that fond of his fancy new title.”

Arthur laughs, and Lancelot forgets his now long-gone pain in favour of joining in.

7)

This was one of the most serious injuries any of them had seen in a very long time.

Leon had been called in the tent to help Merlin, having been the least tired with the steadiest hands at the time.

Arthur was pacing angrily, Mordred was doing his best to meditate, Lancelot held one of Gwaine’s hands in his own, and Elyan had an arm around his shoulders, as Gwaine himself bounced his foot up and down. At the beginning, he’d tried to hold his tears in, but as the image of a bloody and dying Percival slowly cemented itself in his mind, he gave up, and let them flow.

They’d been in there for hours, and whilst the rest of the knights tried to have faith, the angry curse that Merlin had let out almost two hours ago, closely followed by hurried movements and Leon shakily asking what he needed to do, had not helped their anxieties.

Inside the tent, they were just finishing up. There was blood everywhere, metres worth of soaked bandages strewn around the tent, along with most of Merlin’s medical bag, which had been upturned and spread around for quick access.

Leon was exhausted, having spent hours monitoring Percival’s breathing and pulse with no break, passing Merlin whatever he asked for, and occasionally having to hold bits of his friend together whilst Merlin worked his magic (both literally, and metaphorically). But however tired Leon was, Merlin was a hundred times worse.

He’d drained most of his energy during the fight, and had to dig incredibly deep to pull out enough magic to keep Percival alive whilst he stitched him back together. The blade he’d been stabbed with was imbued with dark magic, and shards had splintered inside the wound. Luckily, no organs had been punctured, but plenty of blood vessels had been nicked, and nothing could be left inside or it would cause likely deadly problems later down the line.

That just meant almost everything had to be done by hand; magic was useful in keeping the knight asleep, and dulling the pain as much as he could, but as far as the actual healing went, Merlin had to focus on keeping his mind sharp and his hands steady.

His face had remained blank, and his voice deadpan through the whole process, and around half a candle-mark in, Leon asked in a whisper:

“How are you so calm? I... I’m trying my best but I don’t know how you’re doing this.”

Merlin doesn’t look up at him as he quietly replies:

“If I panic, he dies. I have to trust that I know what I’m doing, and just get on with it. You’re doing fine, Leon. It isn’t... it isn’t Percival, it’s just another knight-”

Merlin’s voice lowers, whispering his last words to himself:

“-just another patient.”

Leon nods, taking another of many deep breaths, focusing on keeping his hands steady and counting Perci- the patient’s breaths.

It was maybe an hour later, that Leon widened his eyes, looking up at Merlin in a panic; before he can say anything, Merlin feels it as well, cursing loudly to himself and dredging up his last reserves of magic to hold his tools in place (in Percival’s abdomen), moving up hurriedly to be by his chest, where he quickly starts CPR.

Leon takes a deep breath, gulping before says:

“Merlin, what do I... what do I do??”

Merlin doesn’t say anything, focusing on keeping rhythm, and Leon can hear him counting under his breath; he gets to twenty-seven when the knight starts breathing on his own again, and Merlin gives himself enough time to take a fortifying breath before going back to the wound and carrying on with what he’d been doing, as if nothing had just happened.

Another hour later, Merlin was putting the last stitches in, satisfied with his work, but by no means... hopeful.

And half a candle mark after that, the knight had been thoroughly cleaned and bandaged, tightly.

Leon (shakily) and Merlin (blankly) cleaned all of the Physician’s tools, and packed away all the detritus; they needed to keep Percival’s environment as clean as possible. He’d tried to force himself to do more, but Merlin’s energy had almost completely abandoned him, and Leon had convinced him to give it a rest; the longer he tried to force it, the longer it would be before his magic built up enough to be useful again.

Merlin finally exited the tent, drenched in blood, leaving Leon to keep an eye on Percival whilst he went to update the others.

When he set foot on the leaves, everyone’s head whipped up. Arthur had given up his pacing, and Mordred had abandoned his meditating, but Elyan, Gwaine, and Lancelot were all still huddled together; though everyone jumped up quickly when they set eyes on Merlin.

They looked at him expectantly, desperately, and Merlin met Arthur’s gaze first:

“You need to go sit with him, Arthur-”

He’s interrupted by a pained cry from Gwaine, and Arthur’s grief-stricken face. A request for the King to go sit with an injured man... that could only mean one thing in their minds. Merlin held his hands (still bloody) up placatingly:

“-he stopped breathing once, but we got him going again. If he makes it cleanly through the night then his chances shoot up, but if he gets an infection before morning then... there won’t be much I can do. Someone needs to go in with Arthur to take over from Leon, he’s exhausted-”

Mordred takes a step forward, a concerned look on his face as he softly says:

“You’re tired too, Merlin, you should sleep.”

Arthur nods, but Merlin waves him off, muttering:

“I’m fine.”

Everyone notices the bleariness of his eyes, and the shaking that had just begun in his hands, but they don’t say anything. They had been expecting this, it happens every time there’s a serious, life threatening injury. Merlin can compartmentalise for as long as needs to, but shock usually hits an hour or so later, when everything catches up to him. With how serious this injury had been, with how exhausted Merlin is, and how covered in blood he is, they aren’t surprised that it’s hitting a little sooner than normal.

Arthur nods at Elyan, and the knight takes that as his cue to go into the tent. Leon walks out a moment later, almost as covered in blood as Merlin, and breathing deeply, tears in his eyes as he heavily sits down. Lancelot wraps him in a blanket cleaning his hands wordlessly with a wet cloth before pushing him to the floor and telling him to get some sleep. Leon closes his eyes and is gently snoring within seconds; Lancelot goes back to Gwaine, forcing the man to look away from the still fairly bloody Leon as he whispers reassurances to him.

As this is happening, Arthur walks slowly to Merlin, putting a soft hand on his shoulder and gently saying:

“What do you need, Merlin? Right now, what do you need?”

Merlin’s eyes had been getting wider and wider as he stared down at his hands, covered in blood and now shaking violently. He looks up in shock at Arthur’s touch, seeming to have forgotten that he wasn’t alone:

“I.. uh, I need two people with Percival at all times, monitoring his breathing, pulse, and temperature. I need... need his pupils checked every ten minutes or so, and I need someone to count how many rolls of bandages I’ve got left so I can figure out how often I can afford to change them and.... and I-”

He looks back down to his hands, gulping, and Arthur can tell that Merlin is really not with it as he continues:

“-I need to go... go and wash my hands.... excuse me.”

With that, he stumbles off in the direction of the stream they had been taking water from. Arthur gestures at Mordred to follow the Warlock, before exchanging short nods with Lancelot, and going into the tent.

Mordred grabs a cloth and a spare tunic, before following Merlin’s trail. When he catches up to him, the older man is knelt at the side of the stream, scrubbing his hands viciously in the water. Mordred sits slowly besides him, gulping before quietly saying:

“Emrys? Merlin?”

Merlin hums in acknowledgment, but doesn’t look up, and Mordred huffs quietly, leaning over to take Merlin’s hands with a quiet:

“Let me.”

Merlin tenses only slightly before he fully relaxes, and the two men move to sit cross-legged, facing each other. Mordred dips the cloth he bought in the stream, and carefully wipes the blood from Merlin’s hands and arms. The Warlock sits absolutely still, and Mordred can tell that he isn’t really... present. He tilts Merlin’s head up, and his eyes seem to come into focus slightly as the Druid cleans away the blood on Merlin’s cheek and temple.

Mordred puts the cloth to the side, picking up a spare tunic and offering it to the other man:

“I thought you’d like to change.”

Merlin looks down to the offered fabric, and it takes him a few moments to process what Mordred had said before he nods slowly, and takes the tunic. He stands on wobbly legs, and Mordred quickly follows him, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder. 

Mordred looks away as Merlin changes. It wasn’t that he really cared, but Merlin was usually incredibly careful to hide his scars from people, (though everyone was aware that they existed, having caught glimpses here and there) but he was far too out of it to realise what he’d done. Mordred refused to take advantage of Merlin’s shock just to satiate his own curiosity about the marks marring his mentor’s skin.

He looks back to see Merlin just stood there blankly, bloody tunic dumped on the floor and hands still shaking slightly. Mordred sighs, he’s been warned about this, but he’s never seen it this bad before; it would seem that the last few hours had finally caught up to Merlin. The Druid takes a few careful steps forward, gently laying his hands on Merlin’s shoulders as he speaks to him in his mind:

“Merlin? You with me?”

His body doesn’t move at all, but Mordred can see his jaw twitch as he gets-

“I’m... I’m with you.”

-from the link. He sighs again, pulling Merlin into a hug; one hand running through the other man’s hair, the other hand firmly in the centre of his back, acting as an anchor, trying to keep Merlin in the here and now. It takes a few moments, but Merlin returns the hug eventually, burying his face in the crook of Mordred’s neck, and holding him tightly round the middle, breathing deeply.

Merlin takes a deep breath as he feels Mordred’s magic probing him for injuries and soothing his headache and exhaustion. In all the rush of Percival almost dying, Merlin hadn’t checked in with himself, and is surprised when Mordred finds, and heals, a bruised rib, and a cut on the back of his leg. Mordred doesn’t have nearly enough energy to be of any help to Percival, but he can heal Merlin’s aches and pains.

Merlin pulls back from the hug, giving Mordred a brief, teary smile before he croaks out:

“I need to go back to Perci-”

He’s cut off by Mordred harshly shaking his head and placing a hand on the side of Merlin’s neck:

“No, you’re exhausted Merlin, you need sleep. Arthur and Elyan are looking after Percival, but you and Leon both need at least a few hours of rest.-”

Merlin looks annoyed, like he wants to argue but is too tired to come up with a retort, and Mordred continues:

“-I promise, I will wake you up if anyone needs anything, but you’re of no use to Percival exhausted. Merlin, you’re about to keel over, and you don’t have any magic reserves left, I’ve given you a little of mine to start you off, but you need sleep.”

Merlin looks at him, his gaze assessing, though sleepy. He gulps, sagging slightly as he whispers:

“You promise you’ll wake me?”

Mordred gives him a weak smile:

“I promise.”

With that, Mordred picks up the bloodied cloth and tunic, tucking them under one arm as he pulls Merlin’s arm over his shoulder, semi-dragging the Warlock back to camp. He lays him down next to Leon, and the knight, in his sleep, reaches out and pulls him close.

Mordred lays another blanket over the two of them, before traipsing over to sit with Lancelot and Gwaine, where he finally lets his tears fall.

+1)

If Merlin knew how ridiculously they’d act, he would have hidden his injury and just dealt with it himself.

Unfortunately, Merlin had mistakenly assumed that Camelot’s seven best knights (one of whom was also King), would be able to be a little more composed.

He sat on a large rock, one arm hanging limply at his side, dripping blood onto the floor, as he stared at the knights. Mordred and Percival looked close to tears, Gwaine looked close to vomiting, Leon and Lancelot were just about managing to stay calm (but Merlin could see the panic in their eyes), Elyan was desperately riffling through Merlin’s bag, muttering something along the lines of “what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the-” , and Arthur was hovering directly in front of Merlin, biting his lip and breathing deeply as he offers reassurances to Merlin.

Merlin is half distracted by the pain, and half trying not to laugh at everyone’s panic. He’d both treated AND had so much worse than an arrow to the shoulder; don’t get him wrong, it was serious-ish, but it did not warrant this level of panic from seven of the Kingdom’s most fearsome warriors.

Elyan finally bustles over, hands full of random medical equipment, at least half of which are definitely not needed right now, but Merlin holds in his chuckle and doesn’t say anything. Arthur turns to the knight, gesturing everyone to gather close as he says, trying to keep the shaking out of his voice:

“Ok, do we take it out? Or do we break off the shaft and leave the head in?? I can’t fucking remember...-”

He trails off, and Merlin rolls his eyes, walking quietly to the remainder of his medical bag, and pulling out what he needs as he sits back on his rock. Gwaine glances back at him, but looks away again quickly as his face goes a little green and he mutters:

“Oh my Gods there’s so much blood.”

Merlin huffs and rolls his eyes; there really isn’t that much.

Leon looks to Merlin, and is the first to notice the man calmly sat there, treating his own injury. He lets out a very undignified yelp, stalking over and pulling the bandages and alcohol from Merlin’s hands and giving him a stern look:

“No, absolutely not, you’ve lost too much blood, you’ll make it worse, we’ll do it.”

Merlin rolls his eyes again, and gestures to the panicking group behind Leon incredulously as he says:

“This really isn’t a big deal, you lot are making a fuss out of nothing, I’ve had so much worse; can I have my stuff back now??”

Leon huffs, and Lancelot walks up to stand next to him, a concerned frown on his face:

“No, we’ll do it. Just... just talk us through it? It’s about time we had to stitch you up, I knew we’d need to eventually.”

Merlin stares at him for a few minutes, before sighing and shaking his head:

“Fine. Only you and Leon though, everyone else is too... jittery, for my peace of mind. They’re allowed no where near the arrow, or the needle and thread.”

At that, Gwaine goes even more green, mumbling a a quiet-

“Oh Gods, he needs stitches.”

-as he turns away. Merlin just scoffs slightly, and gestures Leon and Lancelot closer:

“Check the arrow for weakness, if it’s fully intact and feels strong, just yank it out. If it snaps, you’re going to have to dig the head out with a knife.”

Leon pales slightly, but nods, stroking his hand up and down the arrow far to gently to actually be able to tell anything. Merlin rolls his eyes:

“For pities sake-”

With that, he lifts his hand up, and pulls the arrow out in one quick motion, thankfully the head along with it. Gwaine promptly turns around and throws up in a bush, Percival running soft circles over his back distractedly as he stares in disgust at the bloody arrow in Merlin’s hand.

Leon gasps and Lancelot lets out an inhuman screech as he clamps a hand over the wound. Mordred whimpers and Arthur lifts a slow hand to cover his open mouth. Elyan blows a harsh breath out, stumbling back slightly and dropping all the things he had been carrying, much to Merlin’s annoyance.

Lancelot angrily looks to Merlin as Leon’s shaky hands try to thread a needle:

“Why?? Why would you do that Merlin? We have to be careful, we have to... we have to treat it properly.”

Merlin clears his throat, wincing slightly at the pain:

“You were being too careful. Let me put it this way, the longer you take, the more likely I am to get an infection and die a horrible death, all from a very simple, easy to fix wound.”

Merlin can vaguely hear Gwaine vomiting again in the background.

Leon takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment as he mutters to himself:

“Just another patient.”

Merlin remembers what he’d said all those months ago on Percival’s almost-deathbed, and rolls his eyes; this was hardly of the same magnitude, but if it helped Leon thread the damn needle, then he wasn’t going to say anything. The First Knight looked up to Lancelot, showing him that it was ready, and Lancelot looks to Merlin:

“What next, we clean it, right?”

Merlin nods amusedly, and gestures to the glass bottle of alcohol that Leon had taken from him, and a clean cloth:

“It’s gonna sting like hell but keep going alright? Wash it out properly, then put pressure on it until the bleeding slows, then stitch it up. You know how to do stitches?”

Lancelot shakes his head, but Arthur steps forward and nods, taking the needle from Leon as he says:

“I do, I’ll do it.”

Merlin takes a deep breath a nods, and with that, Lancelot cleans out the wound. Merlin hisses in pain, clenching his hands tightly as Lancelot mutters apologies and the other knights crowd closer. Leon strokes a soft hand up the Warlock’s back, Arthur has a hand on his (uninjured) shoulder, Mordred was whispering reassurances through the mental link, Elyan stood by with bandages and clean cloths, and Gwaine gave Merlin his best smile, despite still looking a bit sick with Percival at his side, holding him up.

Finally it comes time for stitching, and Lancelot swaps places with The King, Merlin one again rolling his eyes as the blond takes a deep, fortifying breath. He finally starts the stitches, and compared to the alcohol just moments earlier (and the Serket sting, and the Dorocha attack, and the fireball, and the poison, and the and the and the...) it’s a tickle. 

Merlin starts making a mental list in his head of all the things he’ll need to replace from his bag next time he gets to the market, which had apparently been the wrong thing to do, because a few minutes later Arthur is slapping him gently on the cheek and calling his name. Merlin turns to look at him incredulously:

“What??”

And Arthur heaves a sigh of relief:

“There you are, we thought we’d lost you.”

“Lost me? It’s an arrow to the shoulder, I’m fine! I was just thinking about all the bloody shopping I’m going to have to do, because you’ve given me at least two extra stitches, and used way too much alcohol and bandages! Honestly.”

Arthur is a little taken aback at Merlin’s outburst, but starts laughing after a few moments of shock, everyone else joining in, slightly hysterically. Merlin looks around at them, bewildered:

“Look, I know I... go into shock or whatever when someone almost dies but this... this is too much. You’re all ridiculous, and next time, I’m treating my damn self.” 

Leon finally breaks out of his giggles, ruffling Merlin’s hair slightly:

“We’re just glad you’re ok, Merlin.”

Merlin rolls his eyes fondly, giving the knights a reassuring smile:

“I am ok, I’m absolutely fine. Honestly, seven of Camelot’s finest warriors all hysterically panicking over an arrow to the shoulder. Gods, I hope you know I’m telling Gaius, Morgana, and Gwen about this, and they WILL laugh at you.”

Arthur turns on him quickly, pointing a finger in Merlin’s face as he flushes:

“You absolutely will not.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow, smirking dangerously:

“Try me.”

~

THE END!!

Ok so this one was one of my favourite prompts ever and I’m so grateful @semideadpanda sent it in, so thank you!!

If anyone wants to extend this or write it out properly, then go for it!!

Check out This List of things I’m working on, it will likely be #15 next! :)

[mackenzielovee]

Hi, I loved crazy love. Literally I become obsessed, so I was wondering if you could write something about them when they are moving to their new apartment near to college and both of their families are helping them to have everything in order, but Rafe only want them to leave to be all alone with you in their new home. Maybe a little bit of smut?

a/n: this idea had my heart bc i'd really been wanting to write something like this ;) i hope you enjoy! thanks so much for the request!

Warnings: swearing, smut, mentions of planned pregnancy, discussion of sex

crazy love masterlist

my writing

our home: crazy love blurb - rafe cameron

"No, no a little to the left. Ward, are you listening to me?"

You sigh as you set the very last box down on the kitchen counter, stealing a glance at Rafe, who is sitting on your new couch. His head is in his hands as he listens to his parents bicker back and forth, trying to hang up the painting they had bought the two of you. Rose had gushed over it when she bought it, telling you it would match the rest of your decor perfectly.

"Of course, darling. You're talking loud enough," Ward gripes, shifting the painting to the left as Rose demands.

"Oh, come on, now. Back over to the right-"

"It's straight!" Rafe raises his voice, standing up from the couch.

You inhale sharply and step into the living room of your new apartment, wrapping an arm around him to try and calm him down. Ever since his parents and Wheezie arrived with the moving truck to help you both, he's been on edge. When your parents showed up with Macy, you thought he was about to go into cardiac arrest.

"Actually, I think it might just be straight," Rose nods, "Good eye, Rafe."

"Thanks so much," he remarks sarcastically.

"Hey," you whisper to him, trying to tell him to quit being mean to his step-mom, "They're here to help, remember?"

Rafe rolls his eyes, "I could do this shit myself."

"Because you're such a handy man?" you snort.

Rafe clenches his jaw as he looks down at you, but can't help the smirk on his face. He pulls you closer to him, leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Where did Macy and Wheezie go? They should start on those kitchen boxes," Rose tells Ward, stepping away from her husband to look for them.

"We can handle the kitchen boxes," Rafe tells her.

"Y/N?" Rose looks to you for a final answer.

You glance up at Rafe only for a second, noting the look on his face, then nod your head in agreement.

"I like the kitchen organized a certain way, anyway," you tell her with a smile.

She nods her head, "All right. Ward and I can start on your sheets-"

"Y/N's parents are taking care of that," Rafe informs her.

Wheezie and Macy come tumbling into the front door, running past all of you and into your bedroom with your parents.

"What the hell are those two up to?" Ward questions.

Wheezie and Macy have become as thick as thieves, the best of friends, over the summer. One day, you'd shown up at Rafe's only to find your sister in her kitchen with Wheezie, baking away. Ever since then, you and Rafe have had to be extra quiet upstairs.

Rose and Ward step toward your bedroom as well, which is down a small hallway just off the kitchen. Rafe grabs your hand and yanks you with him, following the crowd of people.

"Can everyone get out of our bedroom, please?" Rafe grumbles, standing behind his father and watching your parents finish up making your bed.

Your parents had not been crazy about you and Rafe living together right as you both make the transition to college. You had cried, begged, threatened to not go to school, and even dragged Rafe over for a family dinner so all of you could talk the situation out. You'd never seen Rafe's face so red as the night he had to sit at a dinner table and discuss with your father how the two of you would be sleeping in the same bed.

When your parents found out that the Camerons would be financing your rent bill, however, the living situation had changed. Your parents hadn't realized how expensive dorm living is, and the thought of not having to pay for housing on top of tuition sounded like a dream come true.

Which is how you land in your new, empty kitchen, trying to hold Rafe back from killing every family member the two of you currently have within arms reach.

"It's quarter to three," your dad tells your mother over your bed.

"Macy," your mom speaks, "Get your stuff, honey. We have to get going."

"Yeah," Rafe perks up, earning the attention of his parents, "You guys should get moving, too. Y'know, lots of traffic, and Wheezie's got that thing early in the morning."

Wheezie opens her mouth to speak, but stops suddenly when Rafe gives her the death stare. She looks to you, to which you just shrug, and then turns back to her parents.

"What thing?" Rose asks her. Ward's phone buzzes in his pocket, earning his attention.

"Uh," Wheezie hesitates, looking to Rafe once more.

"Girl scout meeting," Rafe blurts.

You cover your face with your free hand to try and prevent Rose from seeing your laughter. You truly have no idea where Rafe gets this idea that Wheezie is old enough to be in girl scouts. Wheezie narrows her eyes at him, shaking her head slightly.

"Girl scout?" Rose questions to herself, still trying to figure it out when Ward speaks up, eyes still glued to his phone.

"Wheezie, get your stuff. You won't want to be tired in the morning at your meeting."

Wheezie rolls her eyes but does as she's told, making her way out of your bedroom and down the hall to collect her things in the living room.

"Seriously, Rafe?" she hisses, "Girl scouts? I'm fourteen-"

"Shut up, Wheeze," Rafe says back to her through gritted teeth.

Wheezie turns to you, "He's your problem, now."

"Oh, boy, do I know it," you tease Rafe, smiling with Wheezie. She laughs, but it's short lived when Rafe shoves her away.

"Get your shit," he mutters.

"Stop it," you demand, stepping in front of him and holding onto his forearms as they are wrapped around your waist.

The one thing you love about Rafe more than anything is how he always shows affection to you, even if your parents or his parents are around. He just doesn't seem to care about anyone except you.

"I want them to go," he defends himself, keeping his voice quiet, "I just want to be alone with you. In our home. I didn't realize that was such a difficult request."

You smile up at your fussy boy, dragging one hand up to his face to stroke his cheek. You can faintly hear your families moving around the two of you, but you're too lost in your own little world to think too much about it.

"Be patient," you whisper to him.

He smirks, "Will you make it worth my while?"

You give him back the same look, loving the way he smirks at you and allows his eyes to rake over every inch of your face and torso. It takes everything in him not to just grab you by the throat and kiss the hell out of you, only controlling himself because your dad is ten feet away.

"Don't I always?"

Rafe groans, trying his best to keep his composure. He has to close his eyes as he continues to whine, knowing that if he keeps looking at you, he'll be hard in no time.

"All right," Rafe says loudly, tugging himself away from you, "Thanks for coming, everyone, but we have a lot to unpack here. Dad, Rose, Wheezie, I'll show you to the door."

You snicker as you watch him attempt to lead his confused family out the door. You turn to your own family, giving hugs and promising to call whenever you can. Rose refuses to leave without giving you a hug, which pisses Rafe off, as he's gotten Ward and Wheezie out successfully and only needs one more.

Rose promises to send flowers, one that match the color scheme of course, and tells you she'll call you to check on Rafe, since he doesn't bother to return her calls. You give Wheezie a hug and give Ward a polite smile and wave from the doorway.

The second they're all out the door, Rafe slams the door shut and locks it before any of them can decide they forgot something.

"Ah, free at last," you joke.

Rafe turns around, licking his lips as he thinks about how you two finally have an empty house and he has you all to himself. No distractions, no parents, no little sisters listening intently at the door for secrets and drama. He eyes you up and down once, and when he brings his blue orbs to meet yours again, you know what he's thinking.

"Come here," he demands, but he can't help himself.

That boy rushes over to you, pushing you up against the wall in the entryway of your new apartment, kissing you as if his life depends on it. You accept his kiss without a second thought, allowing your hands to wrap themselves around his neck.

"Up," he mutters against your lips, hands guiding themselves to your waist as you jump up and let him position himself in between your legs, wrapping them around his torso.

He moves his kisses to your cheek, then your jawline, then your neck, while his hands relentlessly roam your ass.

"Rafe," you say, tilting your neck to give him more space.

"Hmm," he hums against your skin, not stopping or slowing down for anything.

"I really do have to unpack the kitchen if you want to eat dinner tonight," you tell him, although you're fully aware he would never set you down for anything right now.

"Not hungry."

"Rafe-"

"I think," he stops you, wet kisses trailing your collarbone, "We should fuck everywhere. Y'know, break the place in."

Even though you two have been together for a while, him saying things like that to you always seems to send tingles through your whole body. He always knew what to say, what to do, to get you riled up in all the right ways.

"That would take us all night," you whisper, smirking because you already know what he's going to say.

"Fine with me, baby."

You smile, then reach down and grab ahold of his cheek with your hand. You lead his lips back to yours, kissing him harder than you had been before. He moans into your mouth and you know you have him right where you want him now.

"Kitchen first?" he questions, breathless, "Or should we mess up that pretty little bed your parents just made up?"

The raspiness in his voice gets you going, enough for him to notice you squirming in his grip. He grins, knowing exactly what it is you need.

"Kitchen," you tell him, watching as he barely nods before he kisses you again, carrying you over and setting you on the counter.

With ease, he removes your shorts and underwear, dropping his own shorts to the floor beneath him. He kicks all of the clothes away, knowing the two of you won't be needing them for a very long time.

"I can't wait, baby," he mumbles, excusing his lack of foreplay.

You shake your head, and he already knows you don't mind based on the way you're dripping onto the granite, "Please, Rafe."

He smirks and then grunts as he enters you, breathing out a sigh of relief that you two are finally home.

By the time you and Rafe even make it to your bedroom, he has to carry you because your legs can't physically function anymore. Rafe's proud of his work, but pretended to pout when he finished you off on the couch and you told him you needed a break.

He lays you down on your new, freshly made bed, moving the pillows out of your way and tucking you underneath the duvet. He climbs in beside you and molds you into his body almost instantly, inhaling your shampoo scent and perfume, thinking about how perfect this moment truly is.

"I can't believe it," he whispers.

"I know."

"Our home."

"Yes, it is."

You two lay there for a while, staring out at the tens of boxes that have each of your names written on them, just begging to be unpacked. You're sure Rafe's boxes will still be sitting there in two weeks, as he had packed a separate duffle bag of his 'essential' belongings.

"You know," he starts after a while, a devious smirk finding it's way to his cheeks, "The next big step is having a mini you. Or a mini me. But, I'd rather have a mini you."

"We just moved into our college apartment and you're talking about impregnating me," you laugh, as if to ask him if he's serious.

"She'll be so cute," he goes on, "A little girl that looks just like you. And she'd have your smarts, thank God, because she'd be screwed with mine. But she'd have my humor, of course."

"Of course?" you tease him.

"And then we'll have a boy."

"Wow, Rafe Cameron, you really just have this all figured out," you move your head up to look at him, noting the small, cheesy smile plastered across his face.

"I do, baby. He'll be a hellion, though. Never listening, always running away, but a total momma's boy. Never wants you to leave his side-"

"So, just like his dad, then?" you grin, watching Rafe clench his jaw and shake his head.

"Break's over," he grunts, rolling you on your back and climbing on top of you, "We're trying, now."

"No, we're not," you say forcefully.

Rafe rolls his eyes, "I'm joking. We'll wait until, like, junior year or something."

"Rafe."

"Fine. But the second you walk across that stage with your diploma, I'm putting a baby in you."

"Deal."

Tags:

@hollandsour @flowerkidlxrry @kookkyra @pogueslandia @sarahwasfound @fuzzyhumanpersontrash @rafecameronn @rafeswh0ree @outerbankies @morganwilliams

*if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist at any time, please send me an ask!

[lovely-angst]

break ups and break ins

a/n: i didn't have any motivation to continue writing so it stayed in my drafts for forever. it's a super messy fic im not super proud of tbh i wanted to scrap it but i got so far lol

genre: angst to fluff

pairing: hawks x reader

summary: you and hawks break up, but someone breaks in?

word count: 3.7k+

09.16.21

-

"come on, stop being so sensitive," hawks groans with an eye roll as you gawk at him. "you think i'm being sensitive because I'm hurt that you're out there flirting with other girls while we are in a relationship?"

you scoff in disbelief before tears form in your eyes, "i can't believe you right now, keigo."

hawks' brows knit as he stares at you bewildered, "i've already told you that it's just an act i have to out up because of the commission. i can't let them figure out i have a romantic relationship with someone. you don't know what they would do or could do."

"but that doesn't mean you can flirt around with no boundaries!" your voice comes out loud as your arms flail out in front of you, tears streaming down your face, "do you know how much it hurts to see you on television sweet-talking every girl out there when you're my boyfriend? i thought you would respect what we have..."

"(name), just admit you're just jealous of the fangirls and leave it at that," hawks closes his eyes, shaking his head in frustration, "honestly, they appreciate me so much more than you do."

your eyes widen in shock as you feel your heart shattering into tiny pieces so small you aren't sure if you could piece it back up.

"keigo, i love you for who you are—not because you're hawks," your voice now small and laced with hurt. "if you can't see the reason why i am so upset, i think it's best if we end it."

hawks' eyes quickly glance to yours before they look away just as quick, "i think that's what's best too," he whispers, causing your brows to furrow in sadness as you purse your lips tightly.

taking a step forward, you wrap your arms around your now ex-boyfriend, taking in his comforting arms and smell, "thanks for everything." a heavy sigh left from his lips before he nuzzled into you, "can i hold you in bed one last time?"

words died in your throat as you felt the tears sting your eyes once more. a nod was your only reply as hawks lifted the two of you up with his large wings, carrying you into the bedroom.

no words were exchanged as the two of you allowed your quiet breaths to mingle together in silence.

-

your heart was still achey from the fresh break-up as your cries and tears quietly filled the air. your nose and eyes red and raw from all the wiping you had done—the tissues around you as proof.

"hey, come on. you can't keep living like this and expect to get better," mirko says and she stands infront of you with a small smile. "how about we watch something to distract your mind?" she suggests as she turns around to pick up the controller to turn the television screen on.

"hawks, being the number two hero must be so taxing! how do you do it?"

hawks gives that big bright smile you've always loved, "my fans always give me motivation to do my best! i love you my babybirds!"

"oh shit-" mirko quickly turns the television screen off before she turns over to you, watching as your lips quiver before you break out in another crying session.

"rumi," you whine, muffled behind your tissues, "he doesn't care for me at all!" letting out a sigh, she walks over and places a comforting hand on your hair before running her hand through your locks, "hey, don't say that. hawks' cared for you a lot. break-ups happen, but don't let it keep you like this. let's go out and have some fun today, yeah?"

your teary eyes glance up at her before you let out sigh, "okay."

but to your surprise, a quick hour later here you were on a chair getting your makeup done professionally as mirko sat on the couch, munching away on a carrot. "rumi? why am i getting my makeup done professionally?"

"my makeup artist is good at what she does when she beats my face with makeup for those hero galas. i thought it would make you feel better getting your makeup done professionally before we go out and explore the city a bit," she finishes, taking another crunchy bite of her carrot.

a small, "oh" leaves your lips before your attention focuses back on the lipstick that gently glided across your lips. "there, all done. you look great!" the makeup artist cheers as she hands you a mirror.

your eyes sparkled once you saw your reflection—you had never felt so pretty before!

"are you ready to go out now?" mirko asks with a smile as she stands from her seat. you couldn't help the small, yet excited, smile, "yeah."

-

your words had been on repeat in hawks' mind.

you were upset because of how he was treating his fans—flirting with his fans as you put it. it was a constant argument the two of you had and frankly, he was getting tired of it. why you couldn't understand where he was coming from?

he didn't want to break up because of something so trivial, but it seemed like a break up was the only option. but it was fine, his fans kept him going; or that's what he thought was keeping him going.

"hawks! we love you!" his fans cried as he landed down in front of them, his handsome smile swooning everyone lucky enough to get their eye on him. "thanks birdies! i'm always happy to have your support!"

"can i have a picture?" "sign my shirt for me!" "you're the best hero!"

fans; something he enjoyed about being a hero. everywhere he went, they were there to offer him their love and support which he appreciated and loved!

but there often came days when he just wanted to stay cooped in his apartment. away from the world and away from the hero hawks. he simply wanted to escape and enjoy being keigo for a little while.

maintaining a facade took a lot away from him. it was tiring, exhausting even, trying to keep up with how fast his mind was going. a million different things happening at once and hawks had to be able to solve them. a little much for a single guy, don't 'cha think?

landing in at his balcony, hawks let out a heavy sigh as he was finally done with another tiring day of being the number two hero. thankfully, he had the next day off to do, well, nothing.

staring at the dark apartment with a an empty look, hawks let out a groan of exhaustion before unlocking the door and stepping in.

it was quiet, extra quiet these days. since he had gone to living by himself again.

after removing his hero gear, hawks walked into the kitchen and frowned at his lack of food in the fridge. usually, you were always there to greet him with a smile and a hearty dinner after a hard day at work.

well, that didn't matter anymore because you two had broken up, hawks mentally responded to his thoughts.

it seemed like tonight was one of those nights he really missed you.

you made this place feel like home and the more he thought about it, you were his home. he was safe with you and it was okay to let hawks go for the night and just be keigo. you loved him as he came, his flaws and everything. even the emotional baggage!

letting out an exhausted sigh, hawks closed his empty fridge before making his way towards his bed, plopping down with a grunt. "i'll just get a bigger breakfast tomorrow," he noted, pulling out his phone to catch up on his social media for the night.

hawks wasn't expecting to see much on his social media, he's too busy to be checking these sorts of things. today though, he was a little extra bored at home—until he saw a photo of you that mirko shared.

hawks quickly sat up in disbelief. hawks was genuinely confused. you had always been super pretty, but you were extra pretty in this picture. was it because you were no longer his? his eyes glanced over you in the photo for many long minutes as he took in your beauty. you looked so ethereal.

hawks was so thankful for mirko, he would have never stumbled across this photo of you.

the more he smiled at the photo, the more his heart ached. if only he just listened to you more and tried to find a solution to this problem, you would still be with him, in his arms. he was a fool to let you go because he didn't understand your pain. especially when you were always there for him when you couldn't understand his pain.

hawks found himself pulling up that photo of you whenever the days were tough. it never failed to bring a smile to his lips.

until mirko deleted the post.

he should've saved it when he had the chance, hawks thought as he let out a groan upon finding no picture. but, maybe mirko still had it on her phone? thankfully, there was a top five hero meeting that day which meant he could ask mirko about the picture.

hawks sat impatiently in his chair as he drummed his finger against his thigh, counting down the minutes until the meeting would conclude. it must've been distracting, because mirko approached him first after the meeting.

"hey birdbrain, what's up with you? you looked distracted during the meeting," mirko questioned walking up to the winged hero. hawks perked up slightly, before giving her a smile, "hmm? nah, just sick of meetings, wanted to get out." mirko eyed him curiously, "if you say so."

"i saw that picture you posted of (name)," he commented, "you two were hanging out?"

"huh? oh, this picture?" pulling up the picture on her phone, she showed him the photo before pulling away to hawks' dismay. "yeah, we went out. it was about time too! (name) seemed to be enjoying herself, so i'm glad i got to capture that."

hawks couldn't help the smile on his lips knowing that you were happy and could enjoy yourself. he really just wanted you to be happy, even if that wasn't with him.

"if you wanted the photo, you could've just asked," mirko smirks, causing hawks to duck his head down in embarrassment. "but even if you ask, im not giving it to you." Hawks turned his head brows furrowed and confused, slightly offended, "why would you even suggest it then?"

"not sure, maybe it'll be a way to encourage you to find a way to get it."

-

mirko had an interesting way of talking, hawks thought as he continued on with his patrol. it seemed like she was hinting at more than what she was saying, but he wasn't really interested in solving puzzles when he was busy being the number 2 hero.

and boy, was he busy busy.

it felt as if all the villains knew hawks would be out on patrol today, using that to their advatange by stiring up so much more trouble than on a typical day—not that he couldn't handle it, it was just more work that he would have hoped to do that day.

from the sky, he could see a crowd forming below on the streets as they cheered him on for another successful capture. hawks let out an exhausted sigh, but floated down to greet his fans nonetheless. there even happened to be press.

"hawks! you were amazing out there!" "great work! i can always count on you!" "you looked so attractive fighting those villains!"

hawks lifted up his visor and gave the fans a handsome grin, causing a chorus of squeals. hawks glanced at one of the fans near him lips curled in a smirk, mouth ready to open and say a few lines that would send arrows straight to the heart when he subconsciously stopped himself.

closing his mouth, he gave her a gentle smile before a soft reply came out, "thank you for supporting me."

it was weird of him to respond to fans in such fashion, but your words were stuck in the back of his head. he wished he could have acted this way before you two broke it off, it would have saved a lot of heartache.

hawks hoped you would notice his change. and unbeknownst to him, you had.

your eyes were glued to the television that aired the news that also happened to feature your ex-boyfriend, hawks. your heart felt fuzzy as you watched him, he seemed different...more down to earth?

"your eyes haven't left the tv since hawks appeared," mirko comments causing you to avert your eyes embarrassed. "i was just interested in the news for today, that's all," you tried but knew mirko wouldn't buy into your lie.

"yeah, okay. keep telling yourself that," she chuckles as she she sits down beside you. "so, whats going on in that head of yours now?"

"he's different now, rumi," you state, eyes drifting back to the screen. "he's talking to his fans like they're fans." your shoulders slump sadly, "i wish he was like this when we were together...i guess he really doesn't care about me after all."

mirko lets out a grunt as she listens to your moping. turning towards her, you notice her adjusting her purple thigh high socks to sit snugly against her upper thighs, "you have patrol this evening?"

"yep, my turn for an evening patrol. they're not that bad, more bad guys come out at night," she jokes with chuckle but you don't find it funny. "i know you can easily beat them, but that doesn't mean i worry any less for you," you sigh. "stay safe please."

"will do, cry baby," she jokes once more causing you to angrily pout, "i'm not a cry baby!" "says the one crying over hawks. bye!" and with that she quickly leaves out the door before you could throw a pillow at her.

rolling your eyes playfully, you walk over toward the bedroom you shared with mirko. you had a nice futon on the floor beside of her bed that surprisingly was very comfy. organizing her room a bit and folding her clothes she tossed around, you tried to busy yourself until she came back.

which was surprisingly short.

you heard the main door swing open before hearing her move around the living room and kitchen. she must've forgotten something, you thought to yourself as you made your way toward the bedroom door you had previously closed behind you.

"rumi? did you forget something?" you ask as you open the door, just to find yourself staring at the stranger in the apartment who donned a black ski mask with some sort of weapon in their hand. unfortunately your voice had caught their attention and their head quickly turned toward you before bolting it down the hallway for you.

screaming, you quickly shut the door and locked it before the thief could get in. the rattle of the doorknob causes you to let out another shriek as you looked around for a way to protect yourself and to escape.

the only solution that came to your mind was to block the door with whatever heavy furniture mirko had on her room which consisted of her bed, a desk and her clothes drawers. you did your best to block the door, but it was proving to be not enough.

"open the door and i won't hurt you miss," the voice called out and you felt your stomach twist from their words.

you scurried around to look for your phone and thankfully found it amongst this chaos and your body went on auto-pilot and dialed the first person that came to your mind whenever you were in danger.

your shaky hand brought your phone to your ear as you ran into the furthest corner of her room. your free hand covering your trembling lips. please pick up.

"hello? (name)?"

"keigo please help me," you cried quietly so the person on the other side couldn't hear you, but the desperation in your voice was clear as day for hawks. "(name)? whats happening? where are you?" his voice was now firm and laced with worry as you began to sob in through the phone.

"i'm at mirko's and she just left for patrol but someone broke in and i hid myself in her room. i'm so scared, please come quick." and right after he heard you squeak in fear from the unidentified noises through your phone.

"i'm coming right now," you could hear the power his wings had as he lift himself into the sky, "does she have any windows you can exit from?" glancing behind you, you took a mental note that her windows were large enough for you to escape through—the only problem was mirko lived on the tenth floor.

squeezing your eyes shut, you nodded even though hawks could not see you, "yeah, but she doesn't have any escape ladders and i'm on the tenth floor." hawks cursed under his breath on the other side, "just hold on, i'm almost there."

clutching onto your phone, you jumped when the barricade you made against the door was getting tossed around from the force of the stranger on the other side trying to break in. scrambling around, you quickly unlocked the window before opening it, allowing the wind to flow in.

with another jolt from the door all of your barricades flew from the door, leaving it vulnerable. you knew the door would fall with his next move, so with trembling hands, you maneuvered your body outside the window, letting your bottom sit on the window frame.

from a distance, you could hear someone calling out your name. when you narrowed your eyes to focus, all of the stress left your body as you watched them shoot towards you. hawks had come to your rescue!

but hawks wasn't close enough.

the door behind you broke allowing the stranger into the room and before they could grab a hold of you, you jumped.

"(name)!"

as your body free fell down towards the earth, hawks used his wings to give himself one strong push forward before folding his wings tightly behind his back to gain speed to reach you.

reaching his arms out, he caught you in time before shooting back up towards the sky, "that was so stupid of you!" you shouted loudly against the wind, "what if i wasn't there in time?"

glancing up at him, you gave him a small smile, "i just knew you'd get to me in time ."

-

"agh, more paperwork i have to fill out!" mirko groans as she walks around her messy apartment after hawks and her had caught the suspect and had cops take care of him. as she walked away into her bedroom with a line of curses, you quietly turned over towards hawks who had his back facing you. he was on call with the commission.

"yep, i'll get that finished tomorrow," ending his call and stuffing his phone in his pocket, he turns around to find you staring at him. his cheeks flush slightly from the sudden eye contact, but he managed to compose himself. "are you doing alright? that must've been quite the terrifying experience."

"yeah, thanks for picking up. you were the first person i thought to call," you confess and he perks up. "oh yeah?"

"you've always kept me safe and i just really needed you when i was in danger. so thanks," giving him a smile he mirrors you. "of course, anything for you."

your heart flutters from his words, but you slightly turn yourself away, glancing down. you two were no longer dating, so there was no need to get butterflies over him again. "well, thanks again. you must have a busy day tomorrow."

"do you buy any chance still have that photo of you when you were out with mirko?" hawks asks suddenly causing you to glance up at him. "you know, when you two went out a couple weeks ago? you were all dolled up and honestly, just super pretty?" hawks says boldly with a sheepish grin.

"why are you asking?"

"send it my way."

you gawked at him, "you want me to send you a picture of me? we're not dating anymore, that would be weird!" hawks could only shrug, "okay, that's simple then. let's go on a date." you gawked even further, "what is going on inside of that bird brain? all this for a photo?"

"i want to be the one who takes those photos of you. i want to be the reason you get all dolled up. i know i messed up, (name). i've been changing the way i talk to my fans because i understand how i hurt you. could you give me another chance to make it better? i promise i will treat you the way you deserve to be treated."

this was coming too suddenly, your wounds were just starting to heal.

"you...you don't mean that, hawks," you say dejectedly as you back up to sit on mirko's couch. "i'm scared."

"he means it you know?" mirko pops out of the hallway suddenly and stands with her arms crossed against her chest as she stares at the two of you. "he's been asking me for that picture nonstop since he saw it online."

"but he really does love you still, (name) and i know you still love him too. go ahead and give it another shot, i'll be here to kick him to the curb if he does anything bad to you." she encourages, making you glance back towards hawks.

"promise?" your eyes are sparkly from the tears that had glossed over your eyes and hawks gives you a confident nod, "promise. i'll pick you up at six tomorrow?"

you couldn't help your growing smile, "yeah, i'll be waiting."

- e x t r a -

as hawks flew off towards his apartment, the notification ding of his phone went off causing him to take a look. you had sent him a text!

opening the message his eyes widen from the photo you sent, it was the cute pic of you all dolled up!

"i'm so in love!" he shouts loudly in the sky.

[rafescoke]

Brother’s Best Friend ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Request: heyy I’ve recently found your account and I just felt in love with the way you write and with your works so I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader is Kelce’s sister, she’s sitting alone at home and suddenly she hears a doorbell ringing, she comes to open the door and that’s Rafe and she says something like “Kelce’s not home” or smth like that and Rafe answers “I actually came to see you” or smth like that. It can be smut or fluff or whatever I don’t really care. Sorry if this is chaotic but I just want the reader to be black and I have bad ideas lmao 😭 sending love ❤️❤️

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Fooling around with your best friend's sister is not a good sign, especially when it involves something more than skinny dipping and drinking alcohol together.

Warnings: Slight smut, mentions of drinking, slight angst, teasing Rafe Cameron

A/N: I'm so close to 700 followers wtf y'all are truly amazing ily! I'm finishing all requests in my inbox for the new few days; thank you to those who put their trust in me to write their ideas <33

(Y/N) could never deny the attraction she felt towards a certain brunette boy with that charming smile.

The feeling evolved for the first time when he came over to her house to see Kelce. He was so polite to her; giving her a turn on passing the ball and scolding Kelce and Topper for not wanting to give her a chance at playing basketball in the swimming pool.

But she was only 8 back then, and she regarded the feeling as nothing more than a silly crush.

Rafe Cameron changed when he entered high school. (Y/N) couldn't explain what was wrong, but he was not her Rafe anymore. He didn't hold the door for her, scold Kelce for making fun of her or do anything that used to make her heart soar.

Her thoughts were disrupted when a fresh blue towel hit her squarely on the face, causing her to yelp in shock.

"Do you wanna come down to the lake with us?"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, pulling the towel to her side, and closed her magazine with a snap. Her eyes fell back to the three guys, lingering on the tallest one a little bit too long.

She cleared her throat, "No, I'm tired."

Kelce shrugged, walking towards the entrance of their home from the swimming pool. He didn't feel like having (Y/N) around anyways, because that would mean he would have to protect her from his friends.

Kelce loved his friends, of course, but he also knew the other side of them that uses girls like Kleenex tissue only to throw them away again.

"On a second thought-" (Y/N) said, stopping the three boys from entering the big house. "I think I'll go."

"You sure?" Kelce asked. God. Now he would have to play the big-brother stimulator for the whole night.

The night sky was dark, and the only light came from the moonlight up above and sometimes from the flashlight of each other's phone. Boozes laid messily on the wooden deck and their clothes were discarded all over the place.

Not one person was sober, and they were all laughing to a joke by Topper.

"Okay, okay, last one-" Topper said excitedly. He shivered, and (Y/N) thought about it as a response towards the cold lake water or the excited nerves of sharing another stupid joke. "Why did the chicken cross the road?"

"Easy. To get to the other side," Rafe answered proudly. A beer drop slid down from his lips to his chin, and (Y/N) felt a strong desire to lick it.

"Wrong."

"Okay, fine, I don't know."

Topper smiled widely, and (Y/N) could see this joke coming from a few miles away. "To get to the loser's house. Knock knock."

Rafe pulled a face, his eyebrows raised. "Who's there?"

"The chicken."

Kelce and Topper's laugh filled the silence around them, and (Y/N) found herself slightly smiling at the joke. Rafe groaned, finally understanding the joke and being angry at himself for willingly taking the bait.

"Okay, okay. The joke's over."

Kelce laughed again before taking a full swig of another beer bottle. He stared at the sky, and let out a loud huff.

"Wish we can go up there."

"Me too, man," Topper agreed. He joined Kelce by staring up at the dark sky, both clearly high out of their minds.

"Do you want to?"

(Y/N) looked to her side, not noticing Rafe who had moved from his previous position near Topper to beside her. She quirked her head to one side, her face questioning.

"Go up to the sky," he explained. He watched as she looked up to the sky, her mouth slightly parting. Her chest heaved peacefully, and her wet body donning the lilac bikini never looked so beautiful and perfect.

"Nah. I'm too scared."

"Even when I'll go with you?" he smiled. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, though her heart was soaring brightly; she would never feel scared anymore if he were to be around her all the time.

"Yeah. Even when you’ll go with me. Besides, it's not possible."

"Let people enjoy things," he said, and he was so close to her now because she could smell the coffee mint from his breath. Her heart was beating wildly, though this would be the ten-thousandth time he did this to her.

It never failed to leave her completely breathless.

"You're drooling," he whispered, and used his thumb to wipe her wet lips from the beer. Her breath hitched, and she couldn't utter any words back. She was too mesmerised with the whole situation.

His fingers stopped at her chin, looking into her eyes, and he was petrified too. He leaned in, but before anything could happen, (Y/N) moved away. He cleared his throat, and swam back to the deck.

‘I’m drunk’ was repeated by him all the way to the the place he threw his clothes off, shaking his head at the thought that he was so close to kissing her. He looked back to her direction in the lake, still staring at him. He focused back on the ties of his shorts, and made his way back to the Kelce’s house.

He ignored his best friends calls.

. . .

(Y/N) never really liked school, but she loved the after-activity that she got herself in.

Like cheerleading.

She used to think of the sport as something quirky, but in truth, once she was accepted into the school’s cheerleading team, she had never been more into a sport than before.

She walked down the field to the other side of the track where the other girls were waiting for her. Her training skirt flew slightly from the wind, and she was trying to hold them down all while carrying the water bottle and a duffle bag.

She exchanged a few greetings with her other friends, putting down her duffle bag and her water bottle. The sun was scorching hot, and all she felt like was eating ice cream inside of their boat whilst streaming down the lake, but the last time she had ditched cheer practice, it hadn’t ended well.

“Uh-oh,” someone exclaimed behind her. “Big bro is coming.”

(Y/N) looked up to the field, and sure enough Kelce was running towards her in his jersey. (Y/N) sighed, not knowing what she did now that could earn her a lecture from Kelce.

“Hey, I’m bringing a girl home after practice,” he said. “Would you mind getting a ride with someone else?”

She groaned, “Fuck, Kelce, no. You can tell your new scandal to fuck off because I am not getting an Uber to walk back to home.”

“Look, please? You can ask your friends to give you a ride, right? It’s important,” he begged. His eyes were scanning her friends now, obviously trying to find someone who could help his sister, and when he found one, his smile quirked upwards. “Yo, Sarah! Can you drive (Y/N) home after practice?”

Sarah walked towards them, her blonde hair up in a ponytail. She slung her arms around (Y/N)’s shoulders, noting the exasperated expression on her face, and gave Kelce a glare.

“You should let her drive a car if you’re going to bring a girl home after school,” she said. Kelce groaned, knowing the amount of shit he will be getting from the people around him, but he was truly trying to make it right for this new girl.

“Look, I’ll buy y’all anything for a week. Food? Sure. Clothes? Sure.”

Sarah clapped her hands, seemingly excited, and forced (Y/N) to say yes. She wouldn’t mind driving (Y/N) home, because she wanted to catch up with her about some gossip too.

“Fine. But I’m driving my own car tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” was all he said before he jogged down to the soccer team.

That evening was hell to (Y/N). She couldn’t get the formation right, the sun was getting hotter and hotter, her hair was sticking out weirdly, and worst of all, she couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday’s event.

He was so, so close to her.

“(Y/N), come on! What’s gotten into you? The top part, again!” The coach yelled, slapping her hands against her lap. There were sweat forming on her forehead, and she was obviously hot and bothered from this whole situation.

But sport was sport. The coach wasn’t going to let today’s training to waste, and she intended for the new number to work.

(Y/N) muttered a soft ‘sorry’ before going back to her position, her heart still thumping at the thought. The cheer started, and her mouth was saying the words, but her brain was somewhere else.

The two guys by her side picked her up by her calf, and she felt the wind gushing out from beside her ears. She was high up in the sky now, throwing one arm upwards and balancing herself on one leg, and it was finally time now, to twirl into the two boys’ arms, but she wasn’t ready. Her mouth didn’t utter any words from the cheer, too focused on the step, and before she could jump back into their arms, she felt herself slipping.

“(Y/N)!” The coach yelled, running towards her by the track. Sarah and the other teammates were surrounding her now, watching as she groaned on the ground painfully, holding onto her arms.

“Okay, I take that as the end of today’s training,” the coach said, sighing. “(Y/N), are you okay? Can you walk?”

(Y/N) held her thumbs up, because she had worse injury than this before. Hell, the boxing fight she used to have with Kelce in their childhood was more painful. She sat up from the track, feeling the heat of the ground burning on her bottoms, and stretched her fingers. The pain coursed through her veins at the feeling, but kinda liked it.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Sarah said, helping her up. She groaned when she finally stood on her two feet, feeling so painful all she wanted to do was lay back on the track, but she knew she had to go home.

She allowed Sarah helping her limp towards a black Mercedes, her eyes closed the whole time.

Okay, scratch the fight with Kelce. This one was more painful than ever.

“Can I stay at your house?” She blurted when Sarah drove out of the school gate. “I don’t feel like listening to my mom’s lecture about my leg.”

Sarah glanced at her from the rearview mirror, watching as she spread her leg out the whole backseat. The ice bag someone had gotten her was pressed against her calf, and she was sweating from the heat and trying to contain the pain.

“Yes, of course, that would be better,” Sarah said. She had other plans that evening, but helping (Y/N) overstepped all of them.

“So what’s up with you and John B?”

Sarah turned to look at her fully on her face, furrowing her eyebrows. “What do you know about John B?”

(Y/N) laughed, “The light’s green.” Just on cue, the car behind them horned at Sarah, and she quickly pushed on the pedal.

“How do you know about John B?” Sarah asked, biting her lips. If (Y/N) could find out, she couldn’t imagine what would Rafe do if he finds out.

“God, don’t be worried. I’m not going to tell anyone about this, okay? Just relax. I think it’s cute.”

Sarah’s worried expression softened, “You think so?”

“Yeah. At least you got to be with whoever you want. Some people can’t have that.”

Like her. Kelce would kill her and dump her body in the ocean for the sharks if he ever finds out how much she likes Rafe.

“You’ll find the one soon. How about that guy in your maths class?” The car turned to the right, nearing the destination.

“No. I’m not looking for anyone.”

There’s only one, but Sarah won’t like the answer.

The time was 8.23p.m. now, and (Y/N) had been in Sarah’s room for a total of 3 hours. After catching up on new gossips, watched a movie, did her English essay, she felt extremely dehydrated.

Sarah was sleeping peacefully beside her, being so tired after the practice and school, and (Y/N) didn’t feel like waking her up. She have been to The Camerons household, but that was only for Sarah’s birthday party a few years back.

She sighed, getting up from the bed to find the kitchen. The house was like a maze, and she wished they had some kind of a map to browse through.

Alas, she found the kitchen, her muscles screaming from all the wrong turns she took before. She knew where the plastic cups and plates were situated, having to help Sarah get them during her birthday party, so she didn’t have any trouble getting some.

She drank the cold water quickly, feeling the liquid sloshing down her throat. The feeling was so, so good that she wished she could go through it again.

“I do not know where your sister is, Kelce,” a voice sighed not far from the kitchen. “I told you you shouldn’t bring that girl home and just drive (Y/N) home yourself.”

The voice, unmistakably Rafe, was getting nearer and nearer. (Y/N)’s eyes widened, trying to find an empty space to hide in, but there were none. She panicked, still looking for a way out that she didn’t notice the tall figure behind her.

“Oh. Found you.”

His hair was dishevelled and wet, his chest heaving and he was shirtless.

What a nice way to bump onto each other.

“Take a picture,” he started, shutting his phone off and placing them in his shorts. “It’ll last longer that way.”

Now we’re talking about the new Rafe.

(Y/N) scoffed, pushing him away and making a disgusted face at his sweat sticking on her arms. “I’m here for Sarah.”

“Why? Did she die or something?”

God. He really is insufferable.

She made to push him away to return to Sarah’s room, only for him to grab her by her waist.

“Move.” Her tone was stern, but her stomach was flipping wildly. She tried to not look so bothered, but failed miserably.

Rafe seemed to notice her behaviour because he didn’t let go of her. “Come on, where’s the fun in that?”

She was on the same level as his neck now, and he could still smell his expensive cologne even after he swam in the swimming pool. She sighed, placing her hands against his chest.

“Move.”

Rafe laughed, putting his hands up in defeat, and went to grab the same glass she was drinking from. He refilled the glass and downed the content, and (Y/N) had to look away from the innocent move.

Maybe he was just saving water by not using a different cup.

“Do you need help to return to Sarah’s room or something?”

“No, I’m fine,” she refused, and made sure he could see her fake annoyed expression before she returned to the hall she came from. But there were 2 halls now, and she completely forgot which one she had been before.

“Really?” Rafe stood beside her, and she looked up to his amused face. “Because you’re in the wrong hall. It’s the other exit of the kitchen, darling.”

. . .

Why couldn’t she not see his face every single day?

It was truly troubling her, to see that boy everyday, because she couldn’t think properly every time.

The lights from the stadium blared widely, and the deafening screaming coming from both teams’ supporters rang throughout the whole field. (Y/N) was sure the whole island could hear them too.

Two things happened earlier than evening. Number one, her skirt wasn’t completely dried after being sent off to the laundry for a week, and her hair wasn’t just cooperating.

So here she was; in a shorter uniform skirt, her hair hung up into a ponytail with lots of hairspray. She wished for nothing but to be all cuddled up with her blanket in her room.

“You’re okay?” Sarah asked. She fixed (Y/N)’s lips gently, getting the lipstick and lipliner even, and gave her a kiss on the cheeks. “Don’t worry about the skirt. It looks normal.”

For a little girl.

(Y/N) sighed and involuntarily pulled down the hem of her skirt. Ten minutes from the game now, and she was nervous she would flash everyone on the school compound.

In the locker room, Rafe was sitting right next to Kelce as his best friend prayed for a win tonight. He was never that religious, and he didn’t feel the need to mutter a prayer to anyone. But tonight, he listened intently to whatever Kelce was saying because he needed to win this cup more than anything in the world.

“You’re okay?” The coach asked, patting him on the shoulder.

“Yeah. Just nervous.”

“Don’t be, you’re the Star Player. Right?”

The Star Player.

Rafe gave him a smile, and went back to his praying.

When he first entered the field to meet the rival team, his eyes couldn’t help but scanned the bleachers to find his dad. Ward wasn’t there, but Rose and Wheezie were cheering for him.

Of course.

He sighed, and went straight to the middle of the field. It’s funny how everyone was there to support him, Rafe, the Star Player, the jock, the whatever else people were saying about him.

He just wanted Ward to see him.

“Come on, man, it’s fine,” Topper said, patting his back. “He’ll come later.”

Even his friends could see how miserable he was feeling.

The first match of the game went smoothly; he scored a try goal, everyone was cheering loudly, but it was just then that one of the opponents came knocking Rafe by his side.

Rafe fell to the ground with a loud thud, earning so many gasps from the stand.

“What the fuck?!” Topper pushed whoever responsible for his fall, and the sound of a whistle rang throughout the air. “He pushed him for nothing! You saw it, fuck!”

Rafe groaned on the ground, clutching onto his arms, and he tried to spread his fingers, but couldn’t. His other teammates were surrounding him now, trying to get a good look of him, all while Topper and Kelce and another friend of his went off to the referee.

Rafe put his other hand up, trying to sit up. “I’m fine, I’m fine! Move!”

The other members scattered away, sighing in relief when Rafe came back to his legs. The referee, still getting yelled at by Topper, shook his head at something he said, and before anyone could process what happened, Topper tackled the opponent who had pushed Rafe down to the ground.

Kelce pulled Topper away after a few long seconds, telling him to stop. But one thing about Topper is that he just won’t stop.

“Stupid fuck!” He yelled, throwing another punch.

“Topper, stop, they’re going to throw you off the field!” Kelce yelled. Finally, he separated them away after the opponent’s friend pulled his injured friend away.

The referee, expectedly, pulled a red card to Topper, earning a groan coming from their coach and the stand. Rafe cursed, knowing that Topper’s one of their strongest member. He watched as Topper tried to argue with the referee, but it was no use.

“It’s okay,” Kelce said, patting his back as he made his way back to the bench. “Relax, bro, okay?” Topper calmed down after the coach said something to him, but Rafe could clearly see the distress written on his face.

“You’re okay?” Kelce asked, pointing to his arms.

Rafe could move his muscles now though he could feel the sharp pain from doing so. But he was too content on winning this game.

(Y/N) watched as the second match unfold, her teeth biting into her lips in fear. She didn’t feel like having the next week full of gloomy students and disappointed teachers, so she wanted the cup as much as everyone else.

Rafe was fast, throwing the ball smoothly back and forth with Kelce and his other friends, but it was apparent that the Star Player wasn’t feeling like himself.

It might be the arm, or the fact that Ward Cameron was too busy with his work to see his son playing.

37 minutes had passed, and the other team was leading. They only had 3 minutes left, and with the team being so drained out and their captain with a broken arm, it was clear who was winning.

The whistle blared through the field again, noting the end of the match. As the other team supporters cheered happily the other side of the stands muttered silently to each other about the game.

(Y/N) watched as Rafe yelled something at his teammates angrily before storming off to the locker room. He winced in pain, holding his arm for support, and ignored every calls from his friends as he made his way to the empty room.

Looking around quickly, she muttered a ‘be right back’ to Sarah, and quickly followed Rafe into the locker room. She wanted to see if he was okay, and if he needed help with his arm.

In truth, she just wanted to be there for him.

“Hey,” she slowly said, and Rafe’s head perked up to see her before he looked down to the ground again.

“What do you want?”

She felt a struck of pain across her heart at his tone, but decided against it. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I was just trying to see if you need anything,” she said, and when his eyes finally looked up to her again, she unconsciously pulled her skirt down again.

“Yeah? I don’t need anything. Go!”

“Wow, you’re a dick,” she scoffed, and before Rafe could mutter anything back, she exited the locker room and straight to the cheer team. She felt a mixture of anger and embarrassment all at once, because God, Rafe Cameron did not just yell at her for trying to be nice.

She should’ve known better than to be ‘nice’ to him. He wasn’t the same 8 year old she met 10 years ago.

. . .

A week had passed from the game, and everything went back to normal.

Except for one person.

Rafe didn’t come to school the next Monday, not that (Y/N) wanted to see him after getting yelled at, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

He didn’t just broke his arm; his father also chose not to attend his game.

It was finally Friday, and (Y/N) was too happy to stay home and continue watching Love Island. Life is better when you are focused on someone else’s relationship other than yours.

She was rolling in her bed, casually smiling at the cheesy joke made by one of the contestant, and before she could hear the reply towards the joke, the doorbell blared throughout the house.

(Y/N) groaned, thinking how Kelce must’ve forgotten his keys again, and waited a few more minutes so that he would just leave her alone and go to that stupid prick, Rafe Cameron’s house.

But the doorbell rang again, and she had no choice but to open the door. She was all alone in the big house, having both her parents still working and her maids having the day off.

But when she opened the door, the boy standing before her was the last person she wanted to see.

“Hi,” Rafe said.

“Kelce’s not here,” she mumbled, and pushed the door close. Rafe’s quickly put his hands to block the door from closing, and (Y/N) pulled away after deciding not to crush his other only working hands.

“What?” She asked, in the same tone that he had given her in the locker room. She felt good when his eyebrows were raised.

“I’m here for you.”

“Why? Did I die or something?” Bingo.

“God, you’re impossible,” Rafe sighed. “Can I talk to you? Just us two?”

(Y/N) sighed, wanting to get this done, and opened the door wider to grant him into her home. (Y/N) closed the door and pressed her back against it, crossing her arms.

“Okay. Talk.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” He said. “I was just so angry with everything. I was pushed and Topper received a red card because of me—”

“You didn’t do anything, Rafe.”

“Yeah, but he was just trying to protect me. And, and I was just so mad at myself because I couldn’t play properly like I usually play. I’m so sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t mean it.”

(Y/N) sighed, “It’s okay. I’m over it.”

“Really?” He stepped closer, and this time, (Y/N) allowed him. “Thank you so much!”

He pulled her into a crushing hug, and before she could put her mind into it, he lifted her up and spin her around.

“Okay, okay, now you’re just pushing it,” she groaned, hitting him on his chest. “Put me down, Rafe, I swear to god.”

Rafe put her down, his face shining happily. They were close again, like that time in the lake, and (Y/N) didn’t feel like pushing him away again.

Because maybe, that 8 year old him was somewhere in there.

“Uh—” he looked away, scratching the back of his head. “Do you wanna. . . watch Netflix?”

(Y/N) cleared her throat, “I was watching Love Island. Wanna watch with me?”

Rafe nodded, anything to get closer with this girl, and followed her upstairs to her room. The first time he entered her room was 9 years ago, and it was only because Topper and Kelce had pranked him into thinking that her room was the gaming room.

“What are you doing?” The girl before him yelled, and before he could explain how he was lied to, she threw a pink hairbrush at him. He groaned from the pain, rubbing his head.

“I’m sorry, I thought this was the gaming room!”

“Out!” She yelled, and he quickly obliged.

Her room was still pink, but it was now filled with so many books, clothes and makeups instead of the dollhouse and toys he saw a few years ago.

“Is this the pink hairbrush you threw at me?” He laughed, holding the pink tool. (Y/N) snatched the hairbrush, embarrassed, and quickly stuffed them into the drawers.

He placed himself beside her on her bed, watching her as she resumed the video. He focused on the show, trying to find at least something interesting from the show, but there was nothing.

2 episodes later, he was too into the show that he pressed on the stop button before they could continue on the next episode.

“I wish they would just communicate,” he said. “Like the whole show’s pointless. They didn’t try to talk to each other about their problems.”

“Yeah, that’s what makes the show interesting, Rafe,” she said as if that was a fact, “And besides, if they communicate, everyone will win the show.”

“Then that’s just good. A win-win situation.”

“You don’t get it,” she groaned, looking into his face. “There’s no use in fighting with you about this.”

She pressed on the resume button again, and instantly, Rafe pressed on the stop button.

“Rafe, I will—”

“You still haven’t apologised for throwing the hairbrush at me.”

She widened her eyes, “That was 9 years ago.”

“And?”

“Fine,” she placed her laptop aside, and turned to fully look him in the face. “Sorry.”

“Not sincere enough.”

She groaned, “Rafe, I am terribly sorry for throwing my pink hairbrush at you. I am so sorry that it hit your face and be the reason why you’re still holding vengeance at someone.”

“I’m not talking about that kind of sorry.”

“Fuck, you’re annoying,” she said. “I’m not going to bow down to you or anything.”

“Just a kiss.”

She looked at him back, her heart stopping at his words. “No.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because you’re Rafe?”

“Rafe? Okay, fine. I’m not Rafe. I’m Rafael.”

“Okay, it’s still a no. You’re Kelce’s best friend.”

“Didn’t you kiss Topper last year?”

“That was a dare—” she sighed. “And it didn’t mean anything.”

“Exactly. This won’t mean anything. This is just a sorry.”

It would mean everything to her to place her lips against his.

“This is sexual harassment.”

“Not if you want it too,” he said, and leaned closer to her. “And you do want it, right? I can see it in your eyes.”

She didn’t know why God would put her and Rafe in this damn position over and over again, because it wasn’t helping her to get over him.

She looked down to his lips, and how it was so inviting, and she wanted more than anything to kiss him, to finally give herself to him, but she was afraid.

“Rafe—”

“Shut up,” he cut her off, and pressed himself against her. Their kiss was slow and passionate, none like neither (Y/N) or Rafe had experienced before. Her hands found themselves wrapping around Rafe’s neck, pulling him closer.

He pulled away, grinning. “I thought you didn’t want this.”

“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes, and pulled him in for another kiss again.

He pushed her down onto the bed gently, still kissing her, and his hands were roaming down her body. She was so, so perfect and every time he saw her, he would have to look away to stop the unwanted thoughts forming in his head.

During the game last Friday, he had to pinch himself from staring at her legs in that goddamn skirt for too long.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he whispered, and she hummed in response before pushing him over so she could take control. She sat on top of him, grinning widely. She was in heaven; seeing him all worked up under her with his chest heaving.

“You would be surprised at the amount of times I imagined myself on top of you like this,” she said, placing her hands flat on top of his chest.

Rafe grinned back, trying to contain his feelings. “Yeah? Wanna show what else you’ve been imagining?”

She leaned closer, making sure to brush her bottom against him and hearing his soft groans. She placed a soft kiss against his cheek, and whispered into his ear.

“Would rather have you show what you’ve been dreaming of me.”

Rafe licked his lips, loving this side of her, and he wanted more than anything to make her his. She looked so innocent sitting there on top of him, smiling and biting her lips.

Before he could touch her in ways he never did to a girl before, a voice rang from outside the room.

“(Y/N)? Have you seen Rafe? I saw his car outside,” the voice said. After a few seconds of silence, he sighed. “You’re okay? I’m coming in, okay?”

“No, no, wait!” (Y/N) shouted, scrambling from her position on top of Rafe as he quickly pulled her up, but it was too late.

Kelce saw them in the midst of trying to get away, with his sister’s leg on one side of his best friend and his best friend’s hands still around his sister’s waist.

“What. The. Fuck.”

-

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