#it’s still learning we’re going LEAN!! and she needs to calm down

[parviocula]

100+G of protein a day for this body and it’s still craving food.

[yieldtotemptation]

RITUAL ft. Yujin

yujin x male reader smut

7k words

Let’s be clear: you’re well aware of what a monumentally stupid idea this is.

For you, it’s just a job. You’ve been fired from plenty before, and there will be plenty more after.

But for her, for Yujin, it’s her career. Her life. Her everything.

And yet, here, in the cramped confines of a bathroom stall, your hand on her ass and hers diving down your jeans; you can’t let go of the nagging suspicion that maybe that’s the fucking point.

“How much time do we have?” Yujin’s lips are on your neck, tiny, hot breaths tickling your skin, nimble fingers at your waist, negotiating with your zipper.

“We had fifteen minutes, an hour ago,” you remind her. “We’re gonna miss soundcheck.”

“It’ll be fine.” Yujin’s unbothered, dismissive of anything that isn’t freeing your cock from its denim prison. “They’ll wait for me. They always do.”

There’s that hint of arrogance, that unshakeable confidence of youth, the invincibility that comes with being that absurdly hot. You can’t blame her at all for it.

What Yujin wants, she gets. You've seen it first hand.

It’s one of the many things you’ve learned about her over the past few weeks.

Well one of the few that don’t concern how good her cunt feels when she rides you, or how her eyes roll to the back of her head when you hit that spot just right, or the way her voice goes hoarse when she screams your name.

“Oh, it’s so perfect.”  Yujin’s seen your cock before, tasted it, taken it, had it in every way possible (in every place available), yet that still doesn’t stop her eyes from lighting up the second she sees it springing out from the waistband of your briefs, standing tall and throbbing painfully. “I’d say this is worth being late for.”

You’ve got a groan for her when she takes you into her hand, her grip firm and familiar. A half-hearted protest, too: “Yeah, but if we’re late, Princess Yujin gets a slap on the wrist, whereas I get fired.”

Yujin scoffs at that. “Well, I am your boss, so I think I get the last say if it comes down to it.”

Part of you wants to correct her, wants to explain that technically you’re not her employee but an independent contractor hired by the touring company. However, that part of you needs to shut the hell up, because the intricacies of employment contracts for musicians-for-hire really don’t seem pertinent at this moment.

Regardless, it all becomes trivial in the face of Yujin. So annoyingly, unfairly pretty, not even the unflattering harshness of the bathroom lights are capable of marring her in the slightest.

You’d probably give her the world if she asked.

She’d happily settle for your dick.

Her hand’s moving now, her fingers dancing around your shaft, exploring the contours of your cock from base to tip, and she's forcing you to resign, “Your logic, as always, is flawless.”

“See?” Yujin smiles up at you, that wide, confident grin that’s graced a million posters, been on every magazine cover and TV channel, and is now laser focused on you. “I’m always right, aren’t I?”

Her point's made with a squeeze around your length, stroking you in earnest, building to a rhythm that’s become so familiar over the past week—quick and precise, dangerously efficient. Like she was made for this. Made to tease your cock. As natural for her as breathing, really.

Yujin’s had plenty of practice, after all—on the morning of every concert, in the evening back at her hotel, on tour buses and in dressing rooms. On a plane once, even. It's the same torrid routine that’s now become a required pre-show ritual. A quiet spot, a secluded room, and she steals you away, bringing you to the brink and back.

And to think it all started because she asked you to help her ‘calm her nerves’.  

Or more correctly, fuck all the worries and concerns out of her pretty little head.

Still, she's never pushed it this far, never cut it this close.

You lean back against the stall door, your breath catching in your throat, the cheap plastic giving slightly under the pressure. Outside you can hear it, hear the bustling sounds of the venue coming to life—staff moving about, the distant roar of fans, the occasional clang of sound equipment. But in here, it’s overpowered by the noisiness of her palm sliding along your shaft, slick with her saliva, and it fills the small space, echoing across the cold tiles beneath your feet.

She’s undeniable—you know you’ve spoilt her. You’ve let her get her way with you far too many times, let her push this arrangement past any semblance of professionalism. Let her poison your mind with whispered sweet nothings that have you pounding her into the nearest available surface whenever she gets a twitch of stage fright.

But you’re also acutely aware of the fact that without these moments, without the promise of her tight, wet cunt wrapped around your cock, you’d be out there on that stage sleepwalking through just another concert with nothing but a drum kit and a bunch of songs you could play with your eyes closed.

“Fucking hell, Yujin, you look too good doing that,” you manage to get out, doing your best to endure her fingers gliding along your length, to last under the microscope of Yujin's dark, hungry eyes.

Another thing about Yujin: there's a special thrill she gets just from watching you, eyes glued to your face, taking in every single nuance of agony she’s wringing out.

“So fucking—” you settle on the most obvious word in your lexicon, “pretty.”

Yujin keens at the praise, her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, her teeth grazes the soft skin of her bottom lip. It's hardly new for her to hear this, to have people rave about how she's the hottest piece of ass this side of the equator. Yet there's something about hearing it from you that has her eating up your words every time. "Am I, now?"

You nod, voice momentarily failing you as she pumps your cock, her grip never wavering, never faltering, like she’s milking you, milking words of adulation from your lips.

You still haven't pinned down exactly what it is about you that unwinds Yujin, that makes her chase you so hard. Maybe it's because you're slightly older, a touch more mature than the usual plastic smiles that try to charm her out of her pants.

Or maybe it's because you said 'no' the first time she sniffed in your direction, and then made her scream 'yes' every time after.

Whatever it is, it has Yujin’s other hand reaching up to fiddle with the choker at her neck, flooding your mind with memories of your hand around her throat, her gagging on your length, her eyes watering while you fuck her face.

“And what about this outfit?” She asks, oh-so-innocently. “You think the fans will like it?”

“Yujin,” you say, like she doesn’t already know the very obvious answer. You’ve seen her in it all—tiny hot pants, tight little bralettes, that fucking leather catsuit. Yujin’s a fucking goddess in anything she wears, even a blind man would burn from the sheer heat radiating from her body. “You look fucking incredible, as always.”

“But?”

“No buts.”

“I heard a ‘but’,” Yujin ponders, her hand still working your cock like it’s her favourite toy. “Like: ‘but the shorts are too short, and everyone’s gonna see my cheeks when I bend over’.”

A blatant invitation to take a glance, to look down, down at those denim shorts so tight against her curves, the fabric stretched so taut that it might split open at any moment. Look down at her thick thighs, the way they flex and release as she jerks you off, every movement making the material cling tighter to her skin, moulding themselves around the outline of her perfect, round ass, those juicy cheeks that you’ve had the honour of spanking and biting and bruising.

“Or is it: ‘but your top is cut too low, your tits are gonna spill right out’?”

She’s drawing your gaze upwards, over that smooth, creamy expanse of skin, her stomach flat and toned, up the thin fabric of her flimsy excuse for a shirt, that dips just enough to tease the tops of her breasts, squeezed together and pushed up by her bra. It's so thin, wrapped so tight around her, highlighting the faint outline of her nipples poking through, already stiffened and calling for your tongue.

“Or maybe it’s: ‘the outfit looks good, looks nice and slutty, but you’d much rather rip it off me and just fucking ruin me like I deserve?'"

Yeah, that’s more like it.

You take that as permission, and reach for the hem of her top, eager to finally see those tits, to feel their warm weight in your palms, to have her stripped and laid bare like she knows you’d love to. But Yujin’s too quick, slapping your hand away with a laugh.

“But unfortunately, there’ll be none of that, drummer boy.” Yujin stops, her grip on your cock tightening for a brief, painful second. “Can’t have you ruining my outfit before I go on stage, can I?”

There’s a challenge there, a test to see if you’ll argue, maybe grab her, throw her against the wall and show her just how little of a fuck you give about anything that takes place outside of this toilet stall. But you know she’s right. You're the adult here, remember? Besides there’ll be plenty of time for that later.

You settle for her lips, leaning down, pressing the pad of your thumb against her chin. You tilt her head up towards yours, only for Yujin to pull back, leaving you kissing air. “Seriously?”

Yujin grins, clearly delighting in denying you again, in making your blood boil and cock throb. “Can’t ruin the make-up either,” she explains, making sure to bat her long, fake lashes for extra effect.

“So, I take it that means the pigtails are off limits too?” You ask, idly toying with the ludicrously slutty hairstyle that’s framing her face, bobbing slightly with every stroke she gives you.

“Now you’re learning.”

So, with a frustrated grunt, you keep your hands at your sides, resigning yourself to Yujin’s sweet torture. It’s maddening, just standing there, panting and so horny, at the mercy of Yujin’s slow strokes. “And no concern for my outfit, whatsoever.”

Yujin’s eyes wander over your choice of clothing, and laughs, rather insultingly, if you're honest. “I’m sure all the fans will be very focused on the drummer’s fashion choices,” she says, trusting you to pick up on the sarcasm.

You feign injury. “Ouch, I put a lot of thought into my clothing.”

“Sure you do. Thoughts like: how easy will it be for your little fuck buddy to tear them off?” Yujin’s thumb finds that sensitive spot just beneath the head of your cock, swiping over it with a smugness that’s both infuriating and incredibly hot.

“You’re going to get it later for that one,” you warn, your hand curling into a fist.

“Oh, I know.”

Yujin picks up the pace, her hand a blur, running up and down your shaft, fingers sliding across your slit, smearing the pre-cum that’s beaded there over your cockhead. And there’s a glint in her eye, that needy look that tells you she’s getting off on this, getting off on having you, having someone she shouldn’t be left alone with, squirm and beg and be so desperate for her.

“Look how big you are for me, daddy.”

There’s that word, that sweet, sweet ‘daddy’.

The first time she called you it was an accident, a slip of the tongue during a particularly intense moment when you had her against the window of her hotel, tits squashed against the glass, cunt dripping with your cum. But every time since, it’s been deliberate, calculated, a button she knows she can push to make you give it to her as rough as she wants; as rough as she craves.

“Look how big you are in my tiny hand.” She’s got you moaning now, melting between her fingers, bucking your hips for that extra bit of friction. “You love it when I jerk you like this, don’t you, daddy?”

‘Daddy’ again, rolling off her tongue like a fucking love letter, a song to send your head spinning and your cock pulsing in her hand.

There’s another challenge, can you last a little bit longer? Can you resist the urge to cum all over her fingers? Paint her pretty nails a fresh shade of white? Or would you rather wrap your hand around her lovely neck and force her to admit that she loves all this just as much as you do.

You swallow down the groan that’s building in your throat, your teeth grinding together to maintain some semblance of control. Yujin catches it, sees the effort it’s taking you, and she shakes her head, her lips pursed in a perfect little pout.

“Don’t hold back, daddy,” Yujin's chiding you, disappointed with your restraint. “I want to hear it. I need to hear how good it feels, how desperate you are. Need you to show me just how much you want to see me filled with your cum.”

She twists her hand down on your cock, squeezing when she reaches the base, her other hand coming down to cup your balls, tickling them with her fingers. That has a moan escaping your lips, a low, desperate sound that makes Yujin preen.

“That’s it,” she’s overjoyed, getting what she came for, basking in your pleasure, “tell me how much you want it, tell me how much you want to cum for me.”

And so you do. You tell her, your voice strained with the effort of keeping your orgasm at bay. Not yet, not until you’re deep inside her, not until you're sure that not a single drop will go wasted. “You're too fucking much, Yujin, too fucking hot,” you manage, the words a choked noise that you hope she can hear over the blood pounding in your ears. “You’re driving me fucking mad.”

Yujin’s strokes keep building, one on top of the other, and she’s pressing herself against you, the warmth of her, soft breasts pushing into your chest, her lips sucking at your neck, kissing into you hard. After all, who will notice? Who gives a fuck if the drummer shows up on stage with a few extra bruises on his skin?  

You fall into the crook of her neck, your forehead on her shoulder, as her lips make their way up your throat, across your jaw, until she’s nipping at your lobe, whispering in your ear, “You’re desperate for my cunt, aren’t you, daddy? You want to fill me up right before I go on stage?”

“Yujin,” you grit out, and you’re holding her, hands on those perfectly round cheeks, holding on for dear life, pulling her close to you so that she can feel just how right she is. The words spill out of you like a confession, “I need to fuck you now, Yujin. I need to feel your cunt, make you cum so hard you won’t be able to fucking move, let alone dance.”

And Yujin leaves one last, lingering kiss on your pulse. “So do it, daddy.”

Her words are a fucking gunshot, and you’re off to the races.

You spin her around so fast she yelps, your chest to her back, your cock trapped between her ass cheeks. Her shorts are barely an inconvenience, yank them down, denim catching on her hips, sliding down to her ankles, leaving her in just her panties.

Yujin gasps, the cool air meeting her bare skin, and she braces herself against the wall of the stall, needing something to keep her on her feet. She’s all soft curves and sweet smells, so insanely proportioned, like she's built for this, curvy and thick in all the right places.

While she’s distracted you sneak a kiss onto the creamy-white skin of her shoulder, hard enough to give her a mark to match yours, a badge of honour that brands her in the same way she’s done to you.

Her panties never stood a chance, completely drenched to the point of ruin, sticky with anticipation, snug against her lips. You pull them aside, thumb brushing against her swollen clit, making her hips jerk forward. She’s on your time now, you’ve got the green light to turn the tables and drag her through the same torment she’s put you through.

“Look at this,” you’re in her ear now, taunting, “you’re already so fucking wet for me.”

Yujin’s cheeks burn red, and she’s pushing back against you, grinding her ass into your cock. “Of course I am. I can’t help it,” she’s a little breathless, a little shaky, “I need it.”

“You’re so beautiful,” your hands like magnets on her bare ass, squeezing, marking her in places only you'll ever know. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Please,” Yujin whimpers, as you slide your finger down, between her legs, tracing her wet slit, testing her tightness, feeling her warmth, feeling how ready she is. “Please, fuck me now.”

You can’t resist her, you never can, not with so little time left and so much of her to ruin. Your cock dips, lining up with her pussy, the tip nudging at her entrance, and all it takes is one strong thrust, and you’re pushing into her, burying yourself to the hilt in a swift, brutal motion.

There’s a scream from her, a grunt from you, blending and echoing through the bathroom, bouncing off the tiles and the stall walls. Someone’s going to hear it, someone’s going to come in and see you fucking the star of the show and that’ll be it for the both of you.

But really, fuck all of that.

Fuck the concert, the venue staff, the fans, the tour managers, the PR nightmare that will follow.

Fuck everything that isn’t inside this stall, that isn’t Yujin’s tight cunt squeezing around your cock, that isn’t the way she’s shuddering in your arms, gasping your name, needing her daddy to fuck her harder, faster.

There's no easing her into it, not like you know you should. You fuck her hard, just like she’s begged. Your hips snap against her ass, the sound of skin slapping skin drowning out the noise outside, again and again, in and out, over and over.

Yujin’s never needed much to get started, always so easily soaked, so easily ready. She'd told you as much one late night (or one early morning): "I can take it, take anything, as long as it's coming from you. "

Her walls clamp down around you, she’s already pulsing, her cunt desperate to wring you dry. You’re gliding in and out of her, using her, letting her mold herself so perfectly around you, her juices coating your cock, making it slicker with every thrust.

“Yes—that’s what I fucking need.” Yujin cries out, her voice high-pitched, her head thrown back, and the flimsy plastic isn’t enough anymore, she needs you to hold her steady, to dig your fingers into her hips and nail her into the wall.

Each stroke, each thrust into her cunt, each time you fill her, stretch her—each one could be the last one, the one that has you exploding inside her. Could be the one that overwhelms you, the one that makes you forget where you are, that there’s anything that exists besides fucking this needy, little brat.

It’s the way Yujin clenches around you, tight and perfect, like she’s made just for you, like she’s never been fucked this way before, will never be again.

(Even though you have. Even though you will.)

Each time is like the first, you’re discovering her all over again, peeling back layers of this beautiful, untouchable idol, and finding something new, something beneath the sheen of purity and perfection. Something that makes you want to ruin her, bring her down to your level, to roll around the filth with the rest of you mere mortals.

And Yujin knows it.

There’s a need to make her feel it, and there’s her fucking pigtails, dangling in front of you like a carrot, flicking up and down in front of your face with every thrust. You need to grab them, to yank her back onto your cock, to force her to take it as hard as you want to give it. It’s almost too much to resist.

But even in your haze you know better. Instead, you settle for that choker on her neck, your thumb sliding under the black leather band, feeling the pulse of her blood racing beneath her skin. You grip it, tight, but not too tight. Just enough to make her gasp, to make her cunt tighten, to make her cry out—

“Gah—God—fuck—”

Strangled cries have her screaming, have her needing you to go deeper.

“Fuh—fuck—yes—right there—right—fucking—there—”

She’s chanting, almost sobbing, doing her best to take everything you’re giving her, everything she’s needs, everything she deserves. You’re tapping into that deep, dark desire within her. The one that gets off on being treated rough, the one that loves having a daddy, the one that needs to be nailed to a wall and reduced to nothing but a shaking, mewling mess of climaxes.

You dare to snake a hand under her top, you’re not going to mess her outfit, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get a taste of what’s underneath. Your fingers stretch under her bra, testing the elasticity of the cotton, before finally finding the swell of her breasts, cupping it, filling your hand with it.

Yujin’s moan is all the encouragement you need, a wordless permit to squeeze, to pinch her nipple, roll it between your thumb and forefinger until it’s a hard little nub.

“Oh fuck yes—touch me. You love touching me, don’t you?” She's feeling it, really feeling you, the stimulation of your palm on her breast, the sting on her nipples. “You fucking love my body.”

It’s the damn truth—these past weeks have been a crash course in Yujin, and you haven’t found an inch you didn’t immediately fall in love with. Every curve and dip and line, every soft place and every sharp edge; the weight of her in your arms, the way she fits against you, how she responds to your touch like she’s been waiting for it, for you, for fucking ever.

“Fuck, yes, just like that, daddy, just like that.”

“You’re so fucking perfect, Yujin. So tight, so wet, so fucking mine.”

You slur words into her, words that make her shiver, make her tremble against you, make her so fucking happy to hear them. It’s the words that she loves, hearing you talk like that, like she’s the only one who can make you feel this way. And maybe she is.

So you keep talking, keep whispering those loving, filthy soliloquies into her ear, keep telling her how good her cunt is, how desperate you are for her body, how much cum you have to give her. And her body has an answer for you each time, each syllable a caress that sends shivers down her spine.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, Yujin. So beautiful when you’re like this, when you’re all mine.” You can feel it boiling up inside you, that pressure building with every smack of your hips against her ass. “I’m going to cum so hard for you, princess.”

There’s the guitar, the bass, the keys, the band tuning up outside, noise filtering into the stall, faint but unmistakeable, the only thing missing is the beat of the drums, the only thing missing is you.

Yujin’s grinning, knowing she’s the one keeping you occupied, knowing it’s her cunt that you’re buried in, that’s not letting you go.

“If only they knew,” she’s giggling like a schoolgirl (she might as well be with those pigtails), “if only they know how good you’re fucking me right now. They won’t have a fucking clue, will they?”

“Such a fucking tease, Yujin.”

She looks over her shoulder at you, and sends a coy, “Who, me?”

“Yes, you, you little slut,” you answer, not bothering to mince your words. Your hand tightens around her choker, not enough to cut off her air, just enough to keep her right there, panting and needy and yours. “You know exactly what you’re doing out there. I see how you dance, how you move. Like you’re forcing them to picture you fucking, making them all want a taste of what they’ll never have.”

The truth makes her shiver against you. “They all wish they could do this to me, all wish they could fuck me and fill me like you are.”

There’s a tension building inside her too, the blend of your words and the reality of the performance she’s going to have to put on afterwards. It has her body tightening like a bow string, ready to snap at any moment.

And you’re going to be the one to release it.

You venture a hand downwards, gracing over her stomach, her belly button, until you reach the wetness of her pussy. There's her clit, ripe for teasing.

You fuck your cock in deeper still, matching the swirl of your finger with the pounding of her cunt, timing it just right to make her leak all over you.

“That feels so—fuck,” Yujin purrs, so, so blissful. “Only you—only you, daddy. No one else will get to have me—fuck—fuck me like this.”

“Whenever I want, any time I want,” you’re telling her, promising her, even though it’s more likely to be the opposite. That it’s Yujin that will seek you out on those lonely nights and those quiet mornings, or just whenever she’s bored and needs someone to fuck all the nerves and stress out of her system.

“They’d be so—gah—so jealous if they knew. I see it when they look at me—how much they want me,” she’s straining to say it, but needs you to hear it, needs you to know it. “I see it—read it in places they think I don’t look.”

She’s lost, lost in a sea of her own musings, thoughts of how everyone with a working pair of eyeballs wants to fuck her. Relishing in the knowledge that she's found the only person that can fuck her right, and that their cock is buried in her cunt, their fingers working her clit.

“They call me a slut, a whore, but that’s not true, is it, daddy? I only fuck you,” Yujin repeats, “I’m only a slut for you.”

There’s an edge to her voice, a raw, animalistic need that makes you want to prove her right. Want to erupt inside her so badly that she’s forced to carry a part of you inside her when she’s on stage.

“Yours to use,” Yujin taunts. “To fuck, to fill...”

Jesus.

“To break.”

Fucking.

“Maybe I should let you rip off my clothes, fuck up my hair—fuck—my makeup. Go out on stage with all the marks you’ve left on me, with all your cum—gah—all over me.”

Christ.

It hits you like a sledgehammer, adding another layer of taboo to this already fucked up situation. The thought of it is fucking wild, ridiculous to contemplate, you’re sure it’s all just part of the game, another button Yujin’s pressing for her own thrill… right?

“Then everyone would know—everyone would know that it’s you—that you’re the one that’s fucking my brains out when no one else is watching.”

You’re all over her and deep inside her, lips on her throat, her jaw, hands at her tits, her cunt. Devouring her, all of her, from those tightly binded pigtails all the way down to her carefully manicured toes.

And then she stops dancing around the subject and demands it.

“Ruin me. Fuck me, please, daddy. Just—kiss me, now.”

“You said—”

But Yujin’s already twisting around at her waist, angling her body so she can seize your lips, smear her lipstick across your teeth, flood your mouth with her tongue. She’s got fistfuls of your shirt, pulling you closer, as if she’s trying to claim you, claim every inch of you as property of An Yujin.

Now that you’ve got permission, you thread your fingers into her hair, gripping tight, pulling her by the pigtails like you’ve been dying to, kissing her like your life depends on it.

You’re getting rougher with her now, tugging her head back, peeling her lips away from yours, sliding your cock out of her. You ignore the whine, ignore the tears. It’s game over for her makeup, for her hair, her outfit. She’s a beautiful, chaotic mess—so shamelessly yours, so perfect in every way.

The separation barely lasts a second, you’re lifting her up, turning her and depositing her atop the toilet seat, spreading her legs wide, putting her on display.

This is the real show—Yujin looking up at you, eyes dark with need, tits out and heaving with every breath; thick, toned thighs glistening with her juices, your precum; and her pussy, all puffy and so ready to be filled again.

“Daddy—” Yujin starts, and ends, as you’re inside her again. Inside her tight, welcoming cunt, her back arching off the cold porcelain, her legs wrapping around you, ankles crossing and locking in place.

Just one hard thrust and you see it—it's in the watering of her eyes, the wobble of her lips.

She’s close, and you’re not far behind.

“Please.”

It’s barely a whisper, nearly lost somewhere between your haggard breaths and the sloppy wet sounds of your bodies colliding.

But you hear it, and it’s all you need.

It’s her pigtails in your hands again, strands wrapped around your fist, and you’re taking a front row seat in the spectacle that is Yujin falling apart.

“Please, fuck me.” There it is again, louder now. “Fuck my tiny little pussy, daddy. Make me yours.”

It’s every single sound out of her mouth, every folding and crumpling of her perfect features, every single drop of sweat sliding down her neck, every time she says fuck me, or break me, or over and over again—make me yours.

You want to savour this, burn this image into your mind, live off the memory of Yujin’s cunt pulsing around you, but there’s no time, no time to do anything but kiss her again; clumsy, hungry, wet, open-mouthed kisses.

“Please,” she’s biting into your lip, licking into your mouth, clawing at your shoulders, “say my name.”

“Yujin,” you give it to her, offer her name like a sacrifice. “Yujin, I’m so fucking close.”

The porcelain is doing its best to bear your weight, to survive the punishment you’re hammering into Yujin’s tight, perfect body, to outlast your relentless fucking. “Cum for me daddy, cum for me.”

But it’s her, it’s Yujin that crosses that threshold first, coming apart until she’s nothing but a mess of whimpers, moans, and cries of your name. Of pleases and thank yous, until she’s just a hot, tight cunt getting used for your pleasure.

“Fuck—fuck—I’m cumming—daddy, I can’t—it’s so—”

It’s all there across her face, all in the way she’s shaking, the way her cunt is gripping you, her walls fluttering around your cock like a fucking heartbeat, tightening and releasing in endless waves that crash down on her.

“So good—you’re so good—you’re so—fuck—fuck—cum—cumming—"

Her entire body seizes, tenses all at once, and you’d be worried if you hadn’t seen it countless times before, if you didn’t know to expect her to lose all control of her limbs, to not be able to do anything but stare at you, all teary eyed and feeling so, so good.

But you keep going, hips pumping, cock driving into her, keeping her steady, helping her climb to her peak, filling her tender, creaming cunt over and over again. You want to make this last, want to keep her like this, unable to think about anything but you, unable to think about anything that isn’t your cock.  

“So fucking good for me, Yujin, so good, princess.”

“God, fuck—daddy!”

It’s the praise that pushes her over, unravels her, has her mouth frozen in the shape of your name, like the idea of you is the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. That, and her nails digging into your skin, adding to the tapestry she’s already engraved on your back.

And then the silence comes, and that’s the real killer.

Yujin’s always loud when she gets fucked, always desperate to tell you how good it feels, needy for you to know how good you are to her. But when she cums—when she loses herself on your cock—it’s like she relinquishes all ability to articulate, to make any sound other than a whine or a gasp.

You know what she wants to say—don’t stop, please, don’t stop—know what she wants to tell you—thank you, daddy, thank you, thank you, thank you—and it’s your responsibility to see her through it, to plunge your cock deep into the smooth, velvety muscles of her cunt, to have her rocking and creaming all over you, again and again and again.

And then she falls apart.

So beautifully, so perfectly.

But you’re not done yet.

Your thrusts come in thick and fast, making the whole stall shudder, making your vision swim. Yujin’s still reeling, snapped back into the land of the living by the force of your fucking.

She’s leaning forward, pressing her forehead to yours, able to form whole words again, whispering something that you can’t quite catch, something sweet and needy and demanding.

“I’m all yours, daddy.”

It’s a trigger she’s been waiting to pull—the moment she says it, you let go.

There’s no holding back anymore, you’ve been fighting it for what feels like hours, trying to keep your shit together, but it’s no use. You’re going to cum, the only question is, where.

You can’t shake the image of her covered with you, painted all over her face, her chin, her neck, her chest, her perfect, perfect tits. You want it, want to see it realised, want to parade her out on that stage looking like a fuck doll—your fuck doll.

But not now, not today.

So instead, you bury yourself inside her, so, so deep. Yujin’s nodding, teasing “deeper, deeper, please,” begging you with her whole body, watching you with those eyes, half-lidded and glazed over, licking at her lips, bracing for you to fill her.

It’s your turn to shake, your turn to let go of that knot in your gut that’s been twisting ever since she dragged you into the bathroom, pushed you into the toilet stall and told you she needed this.

You throb, tighten, the base of your spine tingles, and that’s all the warning you get before you’re cumming, rushing Yujin’s greedy cunt with your hot, sticky load.

“Daddy, daddy—daddy—yes!”

It’s an addiction now, she needs your cum like she needs oxygen, and you need to fill her as if you’ll die if you go another day without pounding her cunt.

“So good, so fucking good inside me—all yours, all yours—"

It’s a thousand blissful little moments stacked on top of each other, her clenching, you throbbing, her grinning, you grimacing, but it all comes together in this heated space that leaves you both boneless, breathless catastrophes.

Yujin’s the first to come down, slumping against you, drooling down your chest, staining your shirt with a sheen of her saliva. Her legs go slack around you, finally letting go of your waist, still shaking in the aftershocks of her orgasm. You can feel your cum leaking from the corners of her cunt, oozing down the inside of her thighs, sliding past her knee, down to her ankles.

A finger under your chin to tilt your head to her, to kiss you. One of those quiet, intimate kisses that will have you spending the night trying to decode its meaning. But, for now, there’s just the salt of her sweat and the sweetness of her lip gloss.

“Thank you, daddy,” Yujin says, so sweetly, so sincerely, and it’s like a knife twisting in your chest.

“Always.”

And slowly, carefully, you’re pulling out of her, even though she’s still clenching, still trying to keep you in. Your cock exits her with an audible slosh, and you need to brace yourself against the stall door, lean into it hard as you take in the sight of Yujin, sprawled on the toilet seat, well fucked and utterly ruined in all the best ways.

She reads your mind, “You really made a fucking mess of me.”

“I only claim fifty percent of that responsibility.”

Yujin pouts, makes sure you’re watching her, and dips her fingers into her defiled cunt. “This is all you, daddy.”

She drags out her digits, holding them up for you, your cum glistening on them like a prize. And then she’s slipping them between her lips, flicking out her tongue to catch a drop that dribbles down her wrist. She licks it all up, slow, savouring it, making sure you’re watching, making sure your eyes are glued to her as she devours the last traces of you from her hand.

That sound she makes, that little “Mmm” of satisfaction has you feeling heady, makes your cock twitch, eager to be back inside her, to fill her right back up so you can watch her do it all over again.

“Cumslut,” is the only word you have her for her, as she slides her fingers in deeper, tickling the back of her own throat like it's the most natural thing to do. Her cheeks hollow out, and after a long, dramatic suck, she pulls her fingers from her lips with a wet pop, all shiny and clean.

She corrects you. “Your cumslut.”

And then a switch is flipped, and she’s putting herself back together.

Yujin’s graceful, at odds with the confines of the cramped bathroom stall she’s just been fucked in. It amazes you every time, the way that she moves. All liquid and soft, as if she’s not really touching anything, as if she’s floating.

She licks droplets of cum off her lips, scoops the remainder up her legs, her thighs, and you’re just staring, gawking at her with something akin to awe, because she’s just so fucking beautiful, so utterly composed, so untouchable.

You help her, you try, help her tug down her shirt, pull up her panties, her shorts, help her slip back into the role of Yujin, the perfect idol, the star that can’t be tarnished by something as dirty as a quickie on top of a toilet seat.

She nods towards the stall door, and you let her past you, help hold her steady as you lead her to the bathroom mirror, give her a chance to assess the damage you've wrought on her. The smudged lipstick, the kiss bruises, the hair sticking to her neck—all evidence of you.

And yet, she smiles, looking back at you over her shoulder. Like she’s got it all under control, like you haven’t ruined her, not really. Not yet.

“Well, that’s something,” she says, her voice a little too breathless for the breeziness she’s aiming for.

But then she’s got her compact out, the tiny bag she's had hidden in her back pocket specifically for occasions like this. You stand back, giving her space to work her magic. Cheeks are patted for colour, lips glossed for plumpness, eyes relined with that dangerously smoky look that makes them pop.

“How do I look?” She turns, looking at you through the mirror, hand on her hip, posing.

“Like you’ve just been fucked in a toilet stall, honestly.”

That makes her laugh. “Good.”

She’s heading to the door, smoothing out her skirt, fixing her top, stopping along the way to give your forearm a quick squeeze.

There’s that look in her eyes again.

One you’ll be revisiting once the show’s over and the doors are closed.

“I’ll take off first,” she says, tying her pigtails back in place. “Wouldn’t want to make it too obvious.”

You catch her hand before she can get away, pulling her face close to you, wiping away a stray bit of cum still shining on her chin. “Good luck out there.”

And there’s that smile. That smile that’s going to make an audience of thousands fall in love with her. That’s going to make you fall in love with her, if you’re not careful. “Don’t need it,” she says, pressing her lips to yours, ruining her lip gloss all over again. “I got you, daddy.”

[itneverendshere]

I love pogue!reader and rafe sm. I’m so excited every time you post them ❤️ what if reader realizes she’s really falling for rafe and it’s getting serious so she’s tries to self sabotage and end it. She’s thinking he’s THE kook and she’s a pogue. It can’t last and she won’t survive that heartbreak. so rafe starts to panic but then realizes what’s she’s doing by ending it so he’s just like lol no nice try I’m not going anywhere

 i would follow you home - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) word count: 3.1k

hope you enjoy, i love them too 🩵

It was mid-afternoon, that quiet lull between lunch and dinner when the regulars started to trickle in. And like clockwork, you were wiping down the bar, mindlessly watching the condensation drip from a glass of iced tea when you saw Rafe strolling in.

He always had that cocky walk, shoulders rolled back like he owns the place, which, you guess, technically he kinda did, or at least his dad did. Cameron Development Group practically built the country club.

He spotted you and the corner of his mouth lifted in that way that made your stomach flip. God, you hated how it still got to you.

After months of this—him swinging by the bar at the end of his golf games, lounging against the counter like it was no big deal, driving you home, saving you from the storms, letting you kiss him—your heart should’ve calmed the hell down. But no, here you were, butterflies fluttering in your chest, fingers tightening around the rag you were using to clean.

You tossed it on the counter and busy yourself with stacking glasses.

“Hey, stranger.” His voice was all smooth like he knew exactly what effect it had on you. And he did. You were still a shitty liar and he learned that fast. 

You glanced up, trying to keep things cool, casual. “Hey yourself.”

He settled into one of the barstools, leaning forward, his blue eyes locking on yours. “You off soon?”

You shrugged. “Depends. Why?”

The truth was, you knew why. You knew exactly what he was asking.

He was wondering if you would have time after this—time to sneak off to that little spot by the docks where you'd been meeting up, where things between you had been getting more…a little complicated?

And that’s exactly why you needed to end this.

It’s not like you hadn’t seen it coming. You’d known for a while that whatever this thing was with Rafe, it was headed in a direction you couldn’t afford to follow. He was the poster child for Kook royalty. Born with a silver spoon and all that. Meanwhile, you were still just the bartender, a Pogue, barely scraping by. 

It started simple—quick conversations after work, long talks on the drive home, those random texts at 2 a.m. that turned into hours of you two confessing things you’d never say out loud to anyone else.

You din’t know when it shifted into this—this weird gray area where everything felt more intense. Maybe when you all but kissed him when he picked you up after the storm. That had to be it.

Because you knew how this story ended. You knew what happened when a girl like you fell for a guy like Rafe Cameron.

Heartbreak.

And you wouldn’t survive that.

“I’ve been thinking,” You blurted out, suddenly very aware of the way his eyes were still on you. Too aware. You reached for a clean glass, filling it with soda water to distract yourself. “Maybe we should… I dunno, cool it for a bit.”

His smirk faltered. “Cool it?”

“Yeah,” You shrugged again, trying to seem nonchalant, even though your heart was hammering so loud you were sure he could hear it. “I mean, this was fun and all, but let’s be real—”

“Be real?”

You nodded, not daring to look up from the glass you were holding.

“We’re not exactly from the same world, Rafe. It was bound to end sooner or later. Might as well rip the band-aid off now.”

Silence. For a beat, he doesn’t say anything, and for a second you wonder if you had done it—if you’d actually convinced him that this wasn’t worth it, that he should’ve just walked away and left you with at least a sliver of your heart intact.

Then he laughed.

It wasn’t like a mocking laugh, but it was still a sound you weren’t expecting. Your eyes snapped up to his face, and you saw that damn smirk was back. Only this time, there was something softer in his eyes, something almost… amused?

“Oh, I see what this is.” He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, looking way too pleased with himself.

You frowned, instinctively grabbing a towel and wiping the counter again, trying to distract yourself from the way his eyes were making you feel seen. Too seen. 

“What?”

“You’re scared.”

Your stomach dropped. “I’m not—”

“Yes, you are,” he interrupted, standing up and rounding the bar until he was way too close, until you could smell the cologne clinging to his skin and the fresh grass scent of the golf course. He caged you in with his body, one hand gripping the counter behind you, the other reaching up to tilt your chin so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “You’re trying to push me away because you’re scared. But newsflash, sweetheart—nice try. I’m not going anywhere.”

You swallowed hard, throat tight, because damn it, he was right. He was completely, 100% right, and you hated it. You hated that he could see right through you like that, see all your fears, all the things you’d been trying so hard to bury.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

You didn’t know what to say because, deep down, you didn’t want to believe that it mattered to him. You wanted to believe that he saw you for more than just the girl behind the bar. But every time you let yourself get close, that voice in the back of your head reminded you that this wasn’t some fairytale.

“Rafe, you’ll get bored,” you mumbled, barely able to get the words out. “You’ll realize this was just… a phase. I mean, we’re friends, right? We can just… go back to that.”

“Go back to that?” He repeated your words slowly like he was testing them out. And then he laughed—this short, disbelieving sound that made your stomach twist, “You’re trying to run.”

“Am not.”

“You are.

“There’s nothing to run from,” You snapped, though even you didn’t believe that.

He was close enough now that you had to tilt your head almost all the way back to meet his eyes, and there was something so raw, so real in the way he was looking at you that you couldn’t breathe.

“Nothing, huh?”

“Nothing,” you managed to repeat, but the word came out more like a question than a statement. The self-doubt you’d been trying to ignore bubbled up, and you hated yourself for it. 

He leaned in closer, and you could feel his breath against your skin. “If you think there’s nothing between us, then why does it hurt so much to even think about letting it go?”

His words hit a particular soft spot, and you had to bite your lip to keep from gasping. You wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, that you could walk away and be fine.

But the truth was, you weren’t fine. You weren’t even close to fine.

The whole time you’d been telling yourself this was just a fling, some wild phase that would burn out eventually—because that was what made sense. You weren’t supposed to fall for the guy who came from money and lived in a mansion on the hill, while you were still sharing a room with your sister in a run-down house, after yours got destroyed, on the wrong side of the island. 

This was never supposed to be real.

“You don’t get it. You’ve never had to worry about—about someone like me not fitting into your life. You don’t have people looking at you and thinking ‘what the hell is he doing with her?’”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and his thumb brushed a light circle against your waist, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “Who cares what people think? I’m not with them. I’m with you.”

You shook your head, more to yourself than to him, stepping back just enough to put some space between you.

"No. No, it’s not that simple. You don’t get it. You don’t get what it’s like to always be the one left behind. You’ll get bored, and then what? You just walk away and I’m the one left picking up the pieces."

He opened his mouth to argue, but you weren’t done.

"And don't say you won’t, because everyone does! I’ve seen this before. I’ve been through it. I don’t survive guys like you." Your voice cracked, and damn it, you hated how vulnerable you sounded, but it was too late. It was all spilling out now, all the fear you’d kept bottled up.

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and instead of the cocky smirk you expected, there was something different in his eyes. Anger? No, frustration maybe. But not at you.

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to keep his cool. “You think I’m just some guy playing games, huh? That I’m gonna wake up one day and decide you’re not worth it?”

You crossed your arms, hugging yourself as if that would protect you from the way his words were hitting you too hard. “Isn’t that what happens?”

“No. Not with me.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do know that!” His voice rose, and you flinched a little, caught off guard by the intensity.

He noticed and apologized immediately, stepping closer, his hand reaching for yours but stopping just short. "I’m here, with you. Because I want to be. Don’t you get that?"

You hated the way he was looking at you, the way his words hit with brutal honesty you weren’t used to—it made you pause. Your eyes fleeted away, focusing on the floor because looking at him was too much.

"Just let me go," you whispered, "It’ll hurt less now."

A muscle in his jaw twitched, and before you could pull back, he stepped forward, closing the gap between you in one swift move.

His hand cupped your face, forcing you to meet his eyes, and there was no escape from the intensity in them.

"No," he said, firm but quiet. "I’m not letting you go. You’re not pushing me away. I’m not leaving, no matter how hard you try to sabotage this."

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you shook your head, trying to argue, but then his lips were on yours, cutting off whatever weak protest you had left. The kiss wasn’t gentle or slow—it was harsh, like he was trying to make you understand something without words. 

 And damn it, you kissed him back. Because of course, you did.

Because despite everything you said, everything you feared, you wanted this. You wanted him. But the second you felt yourself giving in, you pushed him back, your hands pressed against his chest, trying to regain some control. 

"Stop doing that," you snapped, breathless.

"Doing what?" He sounded just as breathless, but he didn’t step away.

"Kissing me like you can fix this. Like—like I’m just gonna believe you."

He exhaled sharply, his hands gripping your waist, keeping you close. "You don’t have to believe me now, but I’m not going anywhere. I’ll prove it to you, okay? Just stop trying to run every time it gets hard."

"I don’t know how to do this," you admitted quietly, your hands still resting against his chest, fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.

"I’ll show you," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "Just stop pushing me away."

For a moment, you let yourself just be there with him, your defenses crumbling piece by piece. You didn’t know how long it would last, or if you could even survive it, but maybe… just maybe, he was worth the risk.

But still, you couldn’t help but mutter, "You’re so stupid, you know that?"

His lips twitched into a smile. “And you’re still kissing me, again, so what does that say about you?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the way your lips twitched with a smirk of your own.

 “Says I’m just as stupid as you,” you muttered under your breath, but the words lacked bite. Your hands stayed on his chest, fingers still gripping his polo like you were afraid to let go, like maybe if you held on tight enough, you wouldn’t fall apart, “Do you always go around kissing the saff?” You mumbled out.

Rafe’s hands moved from your waist to your back, pulling you in closer. His forehead still rested against yours, and you could feel his breath, warm and steady, brushing against your skin. It was infuriating how easy it was to melt into him.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching with the start of a grin, “Only the ones who can’t seem to stay away from me.”

You groaned, shoving him in the chest with just enough force to make him stumble back a step. “God, you’re insufferable.”

He caught your wrists before you could pull away completely, his grip gentle, keeping you close enough that you could still feel the warmth of his skin through your clothes. “Yeah, well, you seem to like insufferable.”

“Do I though?” You quipped, trying to sound indifferent, but your heartbeat was giving you away. You could feel it hammering in your chest, “Because I feel like this whole thing is a bad idea. You know, like ‘kiss the rich guy, ruin your life’ kind of bad idea.”

Rafe’s expression softened, and the teasing glint in his eyes faded. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” You tried to play dumb.

“Talk like this doesn’t mean something. Like I don’t mean something to you.” His voice was low, but there was a seriousness in it that made your stomach flip. “We’ve been doing this dance for a while now, and every time it starts to get real, you act like it’s just… casual.”

Your throat tightened, and you tried to pull your wrists free, but he didn’t let go, making it clear he wasn’t letting you run again.

“Maybe it is casual,” you said, even though the words tasted like a lie. “Maybe we’re just two people having a good time, and that’s it.”

He shook his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in that way that made your chest ache. “Nah. You’re not fooling me anymore. You don’t kiss someone like you kissed me just for fun.”

You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. “Rafe…”

“And you don’t look at me like that when I walk in unless there’s more to it.” His voice softened as his thumb traced light circles against your skin. “So stop pretending it’s nothing.”

“I should be working.”

But Rafe wasn’t letting you off that easy. “Yeah, you probably should,” he said, but his hands didn’t move, and neither did his eyes.

“So you’re gonna let me go?”

“Why’d you kiss me that day?” he asked, "I’ve been wondering.”

You blinked up at him, caught off guard by the question. He was so close, and it was hard to think, let alone answer something that felt so…disarming like everything you’d been running from was waiting in his words.

"I don’t know," you groaned, suddenly feeling like a cornered animal. "I wasn’t thinking straight."

His fingers traced a slow line down your arm, sending shivers through you. "You sure about that?" His voice was quiet, like he already knew you were lying, knew you too well for you to hide behind that excuse. "Because it didn’t feel like just some random kiss."

You scoffed, trying to laugh it off, trying to keep your cool, but the sound came out shaky.

"It was— I don’t know, Rafe. It was just the heat of the moment, okay? The storm… everything." You bit your lip, avoiding his gaze because you knew he wasn’t buying it. "You saved me, and I guess I was—"

"Grateful?" he interrupted, his brow arching. “Is that what you’re trying to say?”

You winced. "I didn’t mean it like that."

“Yeah, well, it sure sounds like you’re trying to make it seem like it meant nothing. Like you didn’t feel anything when you kissed me.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it impossible to respond right away. He wasn’t wrong. That kiss had meant something—maybe more than you were ready to admit to yourself, let alone to him.

“You can’t keep acting like you don’t care, because I know you do. You wouldn’t have kissed me if you didn’t.”

The way he said it, so certain, so sure of himself—it made your heart race even faster. 

“Why do you care so much?” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Why does it matter?”

He frowned, like you had just asked the stupidest question in the world. “Because it matters to me.”

Your chest tightened at that, and you hated how much you wanted to believe him. "I don’t want to get hurt, Rafe."

"I’m not gonna hurt you." His voice was low, serious, like a promise, but you’d heard promises like that before. "I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care. I’m asking for a chance, just one chance. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your chest tightened as you stared up at him. He was serious. Like, really serious. And you were scared out of your mind because you wanted to believe him so badly. But trusting someone, letting them in? That was terrifying.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, finally admitting it out loud.

“I know,” he murmured, his forehead resting gently against yours. “But I’m scared too, okay? I want to be with you. So, please, just… give us a shot.”

You closed your eyes, breathing him in, your mind racing a hundred miles per hour.

You could still feel his lips on yours, the way he made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could let your guard down for once. And the truth was, despite all the reasons you’d been telling yourself to walk away, your heart was telling you to stay.

 “Okay.”

His breath caught. “Okay?”

You opened your eyes, “Yeah, okay. I’ll give you a chance. Don’t screw it up.”

Rafe’s lips curved into that stupid, cocky grin, “I won’t. I promise.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at him, but instead, you found yourself smiling back. 

Maybe this was crazy, maybe you were setting yourself up for heartbreak or maybe you’d really found yourself a soulmate.

[favefandomimagines]

Storm’s Eye (t.o)

Request: @lonelyghosts-stuff “Helllllllo! I hope you are doing well! I was wondering if I could request a Tyler Owens x Reader enemies to lovers fic? I am such a sucker for that trope especially if it's like actually enemies who hate each other but then grow to care through shared experiences and learning about each other. Angsty and life and death stuff. Just super tropey lol”

AN: I’ve been trying a new writing style where I don’t write in the first person but rather the third person, but still using Y/N. Let me know what you guys think!

The sky was a bruised shade of purple.Tyler Owens was behind the wheel of his truck, eyes flicking between the horizon and the radar screen. He gripped the steering wheel, every fiber of his being tuned into the storm brewing in the distance. This was what he lived for—chasing the thrill, the danger.

Beside him, Boone and Javi were having a conversation about the best burgers in Oklahoma, but Tyler wasn’t paying attention. He was more concerned with staying ahead of the supercell that was beginning to form just over the ridge. His mind raced with calculations, predictions, and strategies, keeping track of the storm's trajectory in his head.

Then there was her.

Sitting in the backseat, quietly scrolling through the radar on her own tablet, was the new meteorologist Javi had brought onto the team. Y/N Y/L/N, the woman who had already gotten under Tyler’s skin.

“What do you think, Tyler?” Javi asked, peering over Tyler’s shoulder. “Y/N says we should head north and catch the storm as it loops back around.”

Tyler’s eyes snapped to the rearview mirror, catching Y/N’s gaze. Her eyes were sharp, confident—like she thought she knew everything there was to know about storms. It irked him.

“North?” Tyler scoffed, his voice laced with irritation. “We’re wasting time if we go north. The storm’s going to pivot east, not loop back. If you want to catch it, we need to stay on this road and head southeast.”

Y/N leaned forward, her expression calm but firm. “That storm’s got a hook echo forming. It’s going to swing north before it turns east. If we stay southeast, we’ll miss the rotation.”

“Miss the rotation?” Tyler barked a laugh. “I’ve been chasing storms for years, and I know this system. You’re just reading the radar. I can feel it.”

Her jaw clenched, but she didn’t back down. “You think I’m just looking at a screen? I’ve been in the field, too. And I’m telling you, if we don’t adjust course, we’re going to be too far south to catch anything.”

Javi glanced between them, trying to keep the peace. “Hey, guys, how about we—”

“I’m the leader of this team,” Tyler interrupted, his tone hard. “We’re sticking with my call. We go southeast.”

Y/N crossed her arms, frustration simmering beneath her composed exterior. Tyler knew she was good at her job—Javi wouldn’t have brought her on if she wasn’t—but that didn’t mean he had to like her stepping on his turf.

“I’ll be here when you realize you’re wrong,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

Tyler pretended not to hear, though her words festered in the back of his mind.

||

The next few days followed the same pattern. Y/N and Tyler clashed over nearly every decision—where to set up, what direction to head, even which equipment to use. The rest of the team, Boone, Javi, Kate, Lilly, Dani, and Dexter, watched their arguments like spectators at a tennis match, unsure of how to intervene.

“Maybe you should cut her some slack,” Boone suggested one evening after a particularly heated argument.

Tyler grumbled something incoherent and shook his head. Y/N was too smart, too stubborn, and way too sure of herself for his liking.

Later that night, while the others were fast asleep in the small roadside motel they were staying at, Tyler found himself unable to sleep. His mind was still buzzing from the day's chase, from the constant butting of heads with Y/N. He slipped out of his room and headed to the small, makeshift lounge area by the vending machines. To his surprise, Y/N was already there, sitting in one of the chairs with her nose buried in a weather report.

He hesitated, then finally walked over and sat down across from her. They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the low hum of the soda machine.

Finally, Tyler broke the silence. “Where’d you go to school?”

Y/N glanced up from her report, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“I asked where you went to school,” he repeated, a little softer this time. “I’m just curious.”

She closed her report and leaned back in her chair. “University of Kansas.”

“Really? That’s a good program.” Tyler couldn’t help but be impressed, though he kept his tone neutral.

Y/N shrugged. “It’s close to home. My dad’s still there, and since my mom died a few years ago, I didn’t want to leave him alone for too long.”

The admission caught Tyler off guard. He hadn’t expected her to open up like that.

“He’s the one who made me want to be a meteorologist,” she continued, a small smile tugging at her lips. “When storm season would roll around, he’d stay calm. No matter how bad it got, he’d explain what was happening so I wouldn’t be scared.”

Tyler was quiet for a moment, processing her words. “That’s…that’s pretty cool.”

Y/N looked at him, her eyes softer now. “Why did you start your YouTube channel? Seems like an unusual hobby.”

Tyler rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of how to explain. “I started it because if it helps even one person know what signs to look for, where to take shelter, and it saves lives…that’s the goal. Storms are dangerous, but the more people understand them, the better their chances.”

Y/N nodded, and for the first time, Tyler saw something other than frustration in her eyes. They had more in common than he realized. “I was a bull rider before this.” He spoke. Not sure why that was the first thing that came to his mind.

“Really?” She questioned. “Yeah, I was pretty good for a while. But too many bulls to the head, I wanted to get out before I became a vegetable. When deciding what to do next, I remembered how I felt during my first tornado. I knew I was supposed to be scared, my aunt was freaking out in the driver’s seat. But I couldn’t help but feel excited by it. Remembering that feeling helped me decide to go back to school.” Tyler explained.

“I guess you’re not all bad, Owens.” Y/N teased. “You’re not so bad either, Y/N.” Tyler replied, a small smirk on his face.

||

Tyler thought that after their late-night conversation, things might start to smooth out between them. But when they were out in the field the next day, the old tension returned.

Y/N was insisting they head west, while Tyler was adamant that they stick to the eastern route.

“You’re not thinking clearly!” Y/N snapped, pulling out her map and pointing to the storm's trajectory. “The data shows the storm shifting westward. If we don’t move now, we’re going to miss the funnel!”

Tyler’s frustration boiled over. “I’m the leader of this team, Y/N. My decision stands. Your opinion doesn’t matter.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and the effect was immediate. Y/N’s face fell, all the confidence and fire draining from her. Her lips pressed together, but she didn’t say anything. Just nodded and turned away.

As she walked back to the van, guilt gnawed at Tyler. He knew what he said had hurt her more than he intended. He knew the sting of being dismissed in a profession dominated by men, and he’d just done exactly that to her.

||

The storm that day was worse than any of them had expected. The winds picked up suddenly, driving rain slashing sideways across the open plains. They had barely made it into a small town when the tornado sirens began wailing.

“Get to the storm shelter!” Tyler shouted to the team over the howling wind.

Y/N was running beside him when something caught her eye. She stopped dead in her tracks, looking toward the edge of the street where a young golden retriever, still basically a puppy, was tied to a telephone pole barking frantically.

“Y/N, come on!” Tyler yelled, but she shook her head.

“I can’t leave him,” she shouted back, running toward the dog.

Tyler cursed under his breath and sprinted after her. “Y/N, you can’t—”

“I have to save him!” she interrupted, fumbling with the leash as the wind whipped around her, making it nearly impossible to untie the knots.

For a terrifying moment, Tyler thought they were both going to get swept away by the storm. Without thinking, he grabbed her hands and pulled them away from the leash, then used his pocket knife to cut it.

“Let’s go!” he urged, pulling her to her feet.

She scooped up the dog, and they ran together toward the storm shelter, barely making it inside before the worst of the storm hit.

Y/N collapsed against the wall, clutching the trembling dog in her arms. “Thanks,” she panted, a breathy laugh escaping her lips.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Tyler said, though his heart was still racing from fear, not anger.

She just smiled weakly in response.

||

When the storm passed, Y/N was outside, kneeling beside the dog and handing out food and water to the town’s residents who had been affected. Tyler watched her from a distance, unable to shake the fear he’d felt when he thought she wasn’t going to make it.

He walked over to her, his voice softer than usual. “That dog’s not going to let you out of his sight now.”

Y/N smiled, ruffling the dog’s fur. “He’s our new team mascot.”

Tyler crouched down beside her, his tone serious. “I was scared. I thought you weren’t going to make it. And it made me realize…I’ve been awful to you because I liked you. I was scared of how I felt.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, her cheeks flushing slightly. “You liked me?”

“Yeah,” Tyler admitted. “And I think…I think I still do.”

Y/N smiled, her voice soft. “Well it’s a good thing that I have feelings for you too, Tyler.” Tyler let out a light laugh before leaning in ever so slightly

Just as they were about to kiss, Boone appeared out of nowhere, grinning like a fool. “So, what’s the plan, lovebirds? Heading back on the road or what?”

Tyler groaned, but Y/N just laughed, the tension between them finally gone, like the storm that had just passed.

[prettymfwrites]

Pregnancy Headcanons

Here are some headcanons and scenarios about how Ellie and Dina might act if their girlfriend was pregnant

Ellie x Dina x Pregnant Reader

Lots of fluff<3

Poly Relationship!

---

General Headcanons

1. Protectiveness Overload

Ellie becomes ultra-protective, constantly keeping an eye on you. She insists on accompanying you everywhere, even for simple tasks like fetching water or walking around Jackson.

Dina is more laid-back, but she subtly ensures you're never overexerting yourself, casually taking over chores or guiding you to sit down when she thinks you’re pushing it.

2. Excitement & Nervousness

Dina is thrilled and can’t stop talking about baby names, imagining how the baby will look, and planning their future.

Ellie is a bit more nervous, constantly worrying about whether the world is safe enough for a child. However, she softens when she feels the baby kick for the first time.

3. Over-the-Top Pampering

Ellie cooks (or tries to), even if her cooking skills are questionable. She insists on learning how to make your favorite meals.

Dina rubs your back, feet, or whatever hurts without you even having to ask. She also reads to you and the baby every night, joking that the baby needs to hear her voice before it’s born.

4. Playful Arguments Over Preparation

Dina wants the baby’s nursery filled with cozy blankets and toys, while Ellie focuses on practicality, like baby-proofing the house or ensuring you have plenty of supplies.

5. Bonding Moments

Dina sings lullabies to your belly, her voice soft and soothing. Ellie, on the other hand, will play the guitar for you both, occasionally making up silly songs just to make you laugh.

---

Scenarios

Scenario 1: First Time Feeling the Baby Kick

You’re lying on the couch, and Dina is resting her head on your lap, her hand absentmindedly placed on your belly. Suddenly, the baby kicks.

Dina’s eyes widen with awe, and she yells, “Ellie, come here!”

Ellie rushes in, slightly panicked. “What? What’s wrong?”

Dina grabs Ellie’s hand and places it on your stomach. When Ellie feels the kick, she freezes, her usual tough demeanor melting as she whispers, “That’s... that’s amazing.”

---

Scenario 2: Dealing with Cravings

You wake up at 2 a.m., craving something weird like pickles dipped in peanut butter.

Dina immediately gets up, eager to satisfy your craving, while Ellie groans, “Can’t this wait till morning?” But she still gets up and grumbles her way to the kitchen with Dina.

They return with a plate of pickles and peanut butter, and Ellie jokingly says, “This better be worth it.” When you happily munch away, both of them watch you with fond smiles.

---

Scenario 3: Prepping for the Baby

Dina insists on having a baby shower, despite Ellie’s protests about keeping things low-key.

During the shower, Ellie spends the whole time hanging around you, pretending to be annoyed by the event but secretly loving how happy it makes you.

Dina, on the other hand, is the life of the party, making sure everyone knows how amazing you are as a mom-to-be.

---

Scenario 4: Protecting You During Danger

During a routine patrol, a group of infected appears, and Ellie immediately steps in front of you, her pistol drawn. “Stay behind me. No arguments.”

Dina flanks the group, quickly taking them out, and then rushes back to check on you. She cups your face and asks, “Are you okay? The baby okay?”

Ellie adds, “We’re switching patrol rotations. You’re not going out anymore.”

---

Scenario 5: The Delivery

When you go into labor, Dina is calm and supportive, holding your hand and whispering soothing words. Ellie, on the other hand, is freaking out but trying to keep it together for you.

After the baby is born, Ellie is the first to cry when she holds them, mumbling, “I’m gonna protect you, no matter what.” Dina leans over, pressing a kiss to your forehead and whispering, “You’re amazing, Y/N. We have a family now.”

---

What do you think?

I take requests!

[butididntpourthewhiskeys]

🤍 SAFETY 🤍

Congrats, you made it. I created the safety fic. Wrote this in one day so be kind xx

“Okay, we’ll just go up, change, i’ll pop some advil and we’re good to go. Actually, do you want to order a snack from room service? When I saw the portion size at dinner, I already knew in my head that we might have to try the wings from the menu after all…” 

The elevator doors close behind her and Travis just grins at the woman standing right in front of him. He feels a little buzzed, but far from being drunk. It’s that stage of feeling the alcohol that is nothing but feeling full of energy, letting loose, just… being happy. Happy because the blonde woman in his arms is as bubbly as he loves her to be. She’s light as a feather, as comfortable as she could possibly be right now. Which is something he hasn’t always been able to witness ever since she came into his life and turned everything upside down. He soaks up these moments, witnesses them in their full glory. There’s nothing quite as peaceful as seeing her happy. And it’s slowly becoming the one thing he wants to see for the rest of his life.

“We’ll do whatever you’re up to.” he ensures her once more. His hand wandering to her left cheek, gently stroking a strand of hair behind her ear. She smiles for a moment, her eyes sparkling a little bit as she moves closer to him, signaling him that she needs a kiss right now. Despite Ray standing right next to them, Travis leans down to her height, kissing her lips softly. 

The massive elevator doors open with a ringing sound. Ray enters the upper level first, followed by Travis with Taylor holding his hand. It’s quiet in this part of the luxury Las Vegas hotel, nothing but the noise of Taylor’s high heels audible on the carpet. And Travis knows why. They’re the only ones staying on this floor, renting out a gorgeous suite with a view over the Las Vegas strip for the night. As much as he loves the crowds and the fun of Las Vegas - he’s learned to appreciate the silence, the privacy, the quietness he’s never been able to fully enjoy before. But now, there’s nothing as calming as being alone with her. Just him and her, and the whole world can wait. He’s found a form of peace and safety in the idea of being able to enjoy downtime not just alone, but with another human being. Before her, he could never sit with someone in silence. Before her… a time he can’t quite recall without the ache in his chest of wondering how he ever made it through the ups and downs of life without her by his side, holding his hand through all of it. 

“I will be right outside.” Ray politely lets the both of them know once they get to their room. He opens the suite with a magnetic key card and the door open for the couple. 

“Thanks, buddy.” Travis pats his shoulder, letting Taylor enter their hotel suite first. He closes the door behind them, watches Taylor make her way to the little night stand in the bedroom. In her gorgeous, dark green evening gown she sits down on her side of the bed, starts to rummage through her cosmetic bag. Travis just drops the jacket of his suit over the chair in front of him. Finally. He knows that him feeling warm and sweaty all night is nothing new. But wearing a suit tonight did not make it any more comfortable for him to be a real life yeti. Before attempting to change his outfit for the fun part of the night, he picks up the phone next to the tv remote, just presses a button. The blonde woman looks up at him confused, still trying to find the left over pack of advil that she threw into her little bag after getting back from Big Sur last weekend. 

“Hi, I’m calling from room 1002. I would like to order some room service.” 

The big man with the phone on his ear turns to her, and she smiles thankfully at him. Of course he would make sure she’s got everything she could possibly need in this moment. 

“Yeah, I would like to get some wings. How many are on one plate? 5?” 

“Get two.” she whispers from across the room. 

“Alright, then two plates please. Also can we get another bottle of water and..”

“Diet coke, babe.” she whispers again. 

“And two diet cokes.” he adds. “with ice.” 

“Also, can we add some sauces to that? Do you… yes, great. We’ll go with that then. And a portion of mayonnaise, please.” he says, and she giggles at him, sending him a little butterfly kiss from across the room. She knows how much he hates mayonnaise, but she also knows that he is well aware of how much she loves it. One of the millions of kind gestures she was forced to get used to in the past months of being with this man. 

“Thank you!” he says, then hangs up the phone again. 

“You are just the best.” she says, dramatically, making him laugh. She’s gotten up from her spot on the bed by now, reaching for the half empty bottle of water standing next to him. Her hand lands on his shoulder and he can’t help but put his over hers for a moment.

“Of course I am.” he jokes, confusedly watches her pour herself some water into a glass. She then swallows two of the pills in her hand, emptying the glass of water in just a few seconds. He’s stood up by now, standing right in front of her with his white shirt still tucked into his trousers. His big hands on her shoulders, his eyes a little more longing than they were before. 

“You good?” he asks, and she places the glass next to her again, a little out of breath from drinking the whole thing at once. 

“Yeah, just.. headache. Will be better soon.” 

“How’s your sunburn?” 

“I’ll be fine, Trav.” she says, almost in a giggle because he’s been concerned all night. He gently moves the spaghetti straps of her dress over her shoulders. The fabric has clearly left a mark on the already redenned shoulders of hers. He lets out a compassionate sigh, then moves down to press a few butterfly kisses on her skin. 

She giggles slightly. Partly because his beard tickles her, and partly because this is the third time tonight that he can’t help but love up on her sunburn. 

“Your poor shoulders.” he mumbles in between the kisses. 

“They’ll get through it.” she replies amusedly, as he lifts his head again, just looks apologetically into her face. She can read instantly what is going through his head. He feels responsible for her not feeling at her best tonight, because she stood right in the hot Arizona sun all day for him - watching him golf with Patrick, supporting him as recklessly as she always does. 

“How ‘bout we just skip the party, undress and throw our own little party?” he mumbles, loves feeling her hands on his beard. She gently strokes his skin, a grin on her lips while gently shaking her head. 

“My love, we’re here for work. For a good cause. I’m fine. I would tell you if I wasn’t.” 

He nods, admires her once more for her strength, her commitment in supporting him and the things that matter to him. A feeling he hasn’t had with anybody else before. He doesn’t speak, enjoys feeling her hands in his neck. He leans closer to her, his nose touching hers. 

“I love you so much, baby.” he just whispers, and she giggles, lifting her face to kiss the tip of his nose once. 

“I love you, Trav.” 

“Kiss?” he requests, and she leans in to press her lips against his. He sighs slightly, tasting the cherry flavour of her lipstick once more. 

“Alright, let’s get ready.” 

“What are you gonna wear?” she asks him, starts to go through her suitcase at the end of the room. She slowly kneels down, starts to rummage through the big case. He can’t help but laugh at her. In her ridiculously expensive dress, she just sits on the floor, going through the piles of clothes she was too lazy to move away this morning. All whilst his clothes are neatly folded and hung up in the built-in hotel closet. This clearly is one of their major differences. He likes having control over his possessions. Likes taking care of his things, having a system. Clarity. Neatness. And just like a little beautiful hurricane of joy, Taylor likes to let her things pile up, doesn’t really care about the materialistic things she owns. So chairs become hangers for pants and jackets. TV screens become a storage unit for long gucci gowns. All her shoes are just kicked aside right next to where she sits on the floor. She truly likes to live in a creative chaos. A beautiful, creative chaos.

“Just something comfortable. That’s for sure.” 

“Mhm, this one?” she asks, holds up a little off-shoulder black dress. “or this one?”

“The black one.” he says, slowly unbuttoning his shirt to change. “Gives your sunburned shoulders some room to breathe.” 

~

A big hand in her back, the moving lights on his face, the loud bass of music vibing so loudly, he can feel it in his bones. He can immediately tell that all eyes are on him and the woman in his arm. A normal reaction to being basically anywhere with her. He looks at Ray behind him, giving him a hand to signal clearly that he’s got her. He will not go anywhere without her consent. The next thing he notices is Patrick waving at him from across the room, signaling his friend to join him where they’re hanging out. 

Together with Taylor, he tries to make his way through the crowd, phone cameras in the darkness right in her face the moment she is noticed. He looks down at her, his hand still more than protectively in her back. She’s forcing a smile, suppressing a yawn. He doesn’t care what she’s telling him. He knows she’s not feeling at her best tonight. 

“Say a word and we’ll leave.” he says in her ear, hoping she could understand him through the noise. She looks up at him, a gentle smile on her lips and the little twinkle in her eyes that he loves so much. Her small hand moves to his chest, and she nods, her lips just forming a low “okay”. 

A few moments later they have finally reached Britanny and Patrick, who were just chatting with a few other people through the noise. Taylor immediately goes to hug Britanny and Amber and Travis turns around to look for Ray. Travis then reaches for Taylor’s hands once more, makes her turn around to signal her that he will leave for a moment to get a drink. She just nods, doesn’t really react much and just keeps on chatting to the women in front of her. Travis once more turns around, signaling Ray now that he’s leaving for a moment. The security guard immediately steps up closer to Taylor, keeping his eyes on her surroundings. Only a few moments later, the big football player steps closer to his group of friends again, nodding at Ray who immediately steps aside and loosens up again. Travis doesn’t interrupt Taylor who is laughing with Britanny about something. He just hands her a drink, and she smiles at him thankfully for a moment. Vodka Cranberry. Her favorite. 

Travis now turns to Patrick and Ross, as well as David Brooker who stands right next to them. He’s honored when the man approaches him, gushing to him about how impressed he’s been with his performance this past season. How excited he is for what’s ahead for Travis. He can’t believe David Brooker even knows who he is. Just one of these moments, in which he can’t believe that this is his life. 

~

Time flies, drinks flow, and people approach him for some small talk. Every now and then, he makes sure to go and check up on Taylor, who has been her chatty self all evening. It’s always been one of his dreams. Having a partner support him at these events. Someone who’s as personable as he is. Someone who can have a good chat with anyone he works with. And he loves her for it. He loves to feel this unimaginable support for the first time in his life. 

With free hands, he steps up behind her. The faces of the women in front of Taylor already wandering to the tall man appearing behind her. His big hands make their way between her arms landing right on her stomach. She immediately melts into his arms, a big smile on her face as she feels his gentle kiss on her cheek. 

“You good, baby girl?” he mumbles right into her ear, making sure no one else hears his words, no one else except her. She just looks up at him, both her hands firmly on his, and she nods. 

“Yeah, you?” she asks to check on him, turns around in his arms, and seems glad to see him nod with a smile on his face. He loves to feel her hands move into the familiar spot on his cheek, a sign that she wants to be close to him. He leans down, kissing her. This time, he can feel her giggle into the kiss, and even through the loud music in the background he can feel her sigh. She pulls back, a giggle on her lips, and fire in her eyes. 

“Not here.” he just mumbles and she starts laughing in shock, unable to process that he thinks this kiss implied that she would ever do something as risky as hooking up with him in a public place. 

“I did not insinuate that, oh my god.” she defends herself immediately, laughing as he presses her closer to him. He kisses her hair a few times, moving closer to mumble into her ear while hugging her closely. 

“As I said, I’m happy to leave anytime. Like, literally anytime.” 

She laughs once more, slowly pulls back from him, pretends to hit him once. But it just makes him laugh more. She just shakes her head, but her eyes are saying something very different. She can’t wait to get closer to him, either. 

“Tay, do you want another drink?” Britanny suddenly interrupts the two, Taylor nods, says something to the smaller blonde woman, which is incomprehendable to him. She then turns around again, facing Travis. He laughs at her, a bit surprised about the fact that she decided to let loose tonight after all. But he’s glad. He’s so glad she’s enjoying herself in his circles. 

~

His phone screen lights up through the dark, and for a moment he’s surprised. 3.12am. He can’t believe how late it already is. And he can feel the buzz slowly turning into something more. He finishes his almost empty glass, making a mental note to himself to not drink anymore tonight. He’s not drunk, but he knows that he will be hung over if he keeps on drinking now. 

Travis places the empty glass next to Patrick’s, checks the text on his phone that he just received a moment ago, then locks his phone again before letting it slide into his pocket. He looks over to where Miranda and Britanny are standing. For a moment, he searches the tall blonde sticking out next to them. But she’s nowhere in sight. Travis moves his head, looking to the other side of the packed night club. She’s not standing next to Amber either. Her security is also nowhere in sight. He feels a wave of worry rise in his chest, slowly stands up. He shouldn’t have that last drink. Trav slowly makes his way over to Britanny. She looks at him, buzzed as well, struggling to understand him as he speaks into her ear. She finally understands then after a few moments, nodding, letting him know that Taylor had made her way to the ladies a few minutes ago. For a moment, he feels the anxiety in his chest dissolve again. He didn’t know this side about himself. He didn’t know this overprotective side, which Taylor clearly has brought out in him. With firm steps, he makes his way through the crowd, people high-fiving him, patting his shoulders. But he’s got a destination this time, and won’t get distracted by the small talk surrounding him. He finally can see the lid up restroom sign next to the bar. That’s when he spots Ray, both eyes on the crowds in front of the door leading to the ladies bathrooms. He’s thankful for him. Thankful to know that she’s always got someone looking out for her.

“Tay’s in the bathroom?” he asks, and Ray nods. Trav just waits next to the security guard, taking out his phone once more. 3.17am. She must be as tired as him, probably ready to head off. After a few seconds of waiting, he then witnesses a swarm of women exit the bathroom. He just stands there, smiling apologetically. After all, he knows how creepy it must come across to stand right in front of the women’s bathrooms just staring. A few moments later, a certain blonde finally makes her way outside. Her hair wavy, her short black dress showcasing her incredible legs, an empty glass in her hand, walking a bit more unsteady than she usually does. He has to let out a giggling breath, his smile turning even bigger when she sees him. 

“Hi baby.” she says loudly, her hands immediately reaching for him. He just laughs at her, placing both his hands on her hips. 

“Are you a little tipsy?” he laughs, gives her a happy kiss and Taylor laughs as well, nodding heavily. He just embraces her in a gentle hug, feels the cameras of people’s phone facing them, yet he doesn’t even care. Presses a few kisses on her cheek before letting go.

“I am and.. I don’t even know why. I just had two drinks, but I can really feel it. How did you notice?” 

He pulls back and nods, taking the empty glass from her. 

“You went to the bathroom with an empty glass, babe. And took it back out with you. That’s how I can tell.” 

She suddenly looks at the glass Travis just took from her, then looks back at him in disbelief and starts to laugh again. This time, she’s covering her mouth in embarrassment. 

“Oh my god, I.. I officially am losing it.” 

“You’re so funny.” he mumbles after leaving the glass on the counter of the bar. “Want to take off?” 

She just shakes her head immediately.

“Noooo, not yet.” she reacts a bit too intense for his taste.

“There’s this guy, who’s hilarous.” she mouths in his ear, and for a moment he feels his churn in confusion. “He claims to be one of your best friends. And I was like..” she pulls back, folding her arms together in a dramatic manner, “okay, sure, babe. You’re Trav’s best friend but you haven’t hung out in a year? Mhm, sure thing.” 

He smiles at her, can’t recall a time he’s witnessed her this loose and funny.

“Also, I was like… sorry, but I’m Trav’s best friend, okay? I am.” she mumbles, almost aggressively, and it makes his heart beat faster for a moment. With his hands on her hips, he pulls her closer. She suddenly looks up at him a bit worried. “I am your best friend, right?” 

He smiles again, nods slowly. 

“You are. You’re my best friend.” he mumbles into her ear in the hug, feeling her head rest on his shoulder. She really is very much drunk tonight, and he’s living for this hilarious version of his girlfriend. 

“You’re my best friend, too, Trav.” she says then, again, a tad too loud than she usually would, but he doesn’t mind. 

“Sure you don’t want to leave?” 

She slowly pulls back, nods with a smile. 

“Just thirty more minutes, okay?” she says, and he nods. He’s glad she got to let loose tonight, even if that’s not something he thought would happen today. He can see very well that she’s drunk, but he wants her to have this moment. Especially her. The person who is always so well put together. He gets to let go like this more often than she does. And he’s happy he gets to be here in the rare occasion that she does let go.

“Alright, let me get you a regular coke, Tay. You need it.” he says with a smile on his face, but a certain seriousness in his tone that she appreciates. 

“Yeah, thank you, baby.”  

~

“And I said to my wife, Travis Kelce. This guy. This guy will make it.” 

Trav just listens to the man in his fifties in front of him gush about him to his colleagues. He blushes a little, pretends to slide a few dollars to the man for his compliments, which makes Patrick, Ross and Harry laugh even more. He turns around for a second, just when he notices Brit approaching Patrick, clearly signaling him that she’s done for the night and ready to hit the hay. He turns around for a moment, finds Taylor still standing next to Amber and Chris. But there’s also another man he hadn’t noticed before. The guy is keeping his distance, clearly, but keeps on talking into Taylor’s ear through the noise. He doesn’t mind to see her chatting to people, men included. But what he doesn’t like is the fact that she seems to constantly loose her own balance in her heels, waddles from the left to the right. He also doesn’t appreciate the man’s hand touching Taylor’s naked arm. A boundary she would never let a stranger man cross. But she’s not moving. Something doesn’t feel right to him. 

Travis slowly leaves the group of people he was just talking to, and makes his way up to his girlfriend. He places his hand on her back but she doesn’t react. The man next to her has stopped talking to her, just nods at Travis with a weird smile. Travis however, looks at Taylor confusedly now, his hand on her back caressing her gently. Nothing. She still hasn’t clocked that he’s got his hand on her bare back. He starts to worry slightly. All she does is hold her empty glass in both her hands, looking into a void. 

“Baby?” 

She suddenly notices him.

“Oh hey.” 

Taylor faces him, and he immediately knows she’s not okay. Her eyes are glassy, her pupils are dilated. She’s very much pale, trying to balance herself on her heels.

“You okay?” he whispers into her ear, ready to take her to her hotel room. It’s been a fun night but her current state is something he hadn’t experienced before since knowing her. The fun is over for him. And it clearly is for her.

“What?” she looks up at him again, struggling to understand any of his words right now. 

“You feeling okay?” he asks again, and she seems to slowly understand through the noise. 

“Yeah, just talking to Amber and Chris.” she responds to him, and he doesn’t believe her for a second. Amber is fully focused on chatting to Miranda who stands right next to her. No Chris is even in sight. Travis looks back at his girlfriend, very well aware that she’s trying to act normal, which worries him even more. He can see she’s not feeling well, and he wishes she would admit it to him. 

“You sure?” 

She nods, both hands still clinging onto the empty glass. 

“Want to leave?” 

She shakes her head again. Something is up. She seems different than the tipsy, drunk Taylor he kissed by the bathroom twenty minutes ago. She’s not just drunk. There’s a kind of apathy filling her eyes that wrenches his gut. He hates seeing her this unstable, unsure. His hand on her back drawing gentle circles. He leans his head down to her again, pressing a kiss into her shoulder. Her skin is still hot from the sunburn she got today. But her confused look after he kissed her makes him feel more unsettled than before.

“I really think we should head out, sweetie.” he tries again, but she doesn’t react. Still stares into nothing, pretending to look at the people in front of her who are clearly drawn to their own conversations. 

“Can you.. can you get me some water?” she says then. Travis leans closer to hear her properly, immediately nods as soon as he understands what she needs. He presses a kiss onto her cheek, clearly worried, reaching for the empty glass in her hands. He has no idea what she’s been drinking, but he surely knows that this is not the same glass from before, when she was nibbling on the full sugar coke he got her. But Taylor won’t let go of the empty glass. It’s only just then that he realizes how tightly she’s clenching it. A bit confused but more worried than before, Travises hand lands on her back for the fifth time tonight. 

“Babe, if you give me the empty glass, I can..” 

“Oh, sorry.” she mumbles, lets go of the glass suddenly. Travis looks around for a bit, trying to scan the room for Brittany. He can’t seem to find her anywhere though. 

“Hey, how about you sit down for a moment while I get you some water?” 

She suddenly doesn’t fight him anymore, almost stumbles over her own feet while walking with him. She then sits down on one of the lounges by the side. He quickly waves towards Ray, signals him to come closer. The security guard immediately looks concerned, but Travis just whispers in his ear to stay here with her while he’s getting her a glass of water. The man nods, remains close to Taylor while being fully focused on her surroundings again. While making his way to the bar, Travis feels worry rise in him. Like a tidal wave, slowly, but with a force he hadn’t experienced before. He realizes in this moment that this is the first time he really cares about someone. More than himself. He wouldn’t mind if anything happened to him if it would mean that the clumsy, tall blonde sitting on this lounge is okay and happy. 

While walking to the bar, he keeps on looking back to where she sits to make sure she’s okay. This is not the first time he’s witnessed her being drunk. But it is the first time he’s witnessed her this out of it. Just sits there like an empty shell, staring into nothing, not talking to anyone, not being chatty or giggly anymore. 

As he makes his way back to her, just a few moments later, is when his intrusive thoughts of worry finally win. This time, she’s not sitting there as apathetic and motionless as she was before. This time, she’s sitting there, looking from left to right like a terrified deer on a dark road. It’s not hard to see how anxious she is. Not hard notice her leg moving uncontrollably. She’s looking around with a lost look on her face. He can’t believe it, but she looks.. scared? Scared of her surroundings, looking down at her hands every few seconds to make sure they’re still there. Her little prada handbag fell to the floor and she didn’t even notice. As soon as Travis sits down next to her again, right after having picked up her bag is when Taylor reaches for his arm, and he notices just now how heavy she’s breathing. 

“Something is wrong.” she mumbles through the loud music of the night club.

“Tay…”

“I don’t feel good. I.. don’t feel good at all. I can’t see properly, and my hands...” she says with panic in her voice , leaning forward to cradle her head in her hands. Almost as if her hands could help her see clearly again. But it’s not working. She panics even more when she realizes that it’s not working, looks back down at her hands again.

“I can’t see and I can’t feel my hands and… I feel really sick.” she whimpers then, is on the verge of crying. 

“I’m really scared, baby. I…” Her hands keep reaching for his, and he manages to place his arm protectively around her. The water glass in his other hand. He takes a deep breath. They need to get out of here. Right now. 

“Have some water, here.” 

He can see her trying to reach for the glass in his hand, but she misses it. Everything she sees, she sees double. Trav looks at her in deep worry. It seems like she lost full control over her hands and once she notices herself, he can see the purest form of panic in her drowsy eyes. She’s close to tears, trying to reach for the glass with shaking hands.

“I...” she starts to take quick and short breaths. For a moment, Travis reaches for her sweaty and cold hand. By no means is he calm in this moment, but he wants to prevent her from collapsing or hyperventilating. 

“Hey, everything’s alright. I got you. You’re safe.” 

He carefully helps her press the glass onto her mouth. With shaking hands, she gulps down the water glass, both hands holding desperately onto his with closed eyes. When she’s done, she opens her eyes again, almost disappointed that the weird feeling hasn’t passed. She still sees everything double, feels like fainting any second. Trav has his arm around her, and she’s holding his hand with both of her hands. But he feels so far away. She’s scared. Scared to loose control. Scared of what is happening to her. Scared.

Travis places the now empty water glass next to him, can see in Ray’s face that the securty guard is starting to get worried, too. There’s cameras pointing at her, and the last thing he wants is for people to notice her struggling. She’s more vulnerable in this moment than she’s ever been in public, he knows. And he will do anything in his power to not cause a scene in here with her. 

“She’s.. she’s not feeling well.” he explains to the security guard. “We’ll leave now but I don’t want people to… can you.. can you just walk first and we..?” 

Travis clearly struggles to find the right words to make sense in this moment but the man in front of him nods, and immediately understands. 

Trav gets up, helps Taylor stand up as well. He pulls her into a hug as her knees are about to give in. 

“I want to go home, please. I want to..”

“I’ll get you home. We’re going home now. Don’t worry, okay. I got you. Just take a moment to breathe, and then we will walk right to our hotel room.” he whispers, knowing that his instructions right now just fall on deaf ears. She quietly cries into his shoulder, her breathing patterns being as fast as before. All she does is whimmer into his ear, begging him for help. He feels sick. Not sure whether she needs an ambulance, an IV or just a whole lot of rest. The only thing that clocks right in this moment for him is the fact that she was drugged. That someone, probably the strange guy from before, has slipped something into her drink to knock her out and make her as weak as she is now. It’s not his first time in Las Vegas, and it’s not the first time he’s witnessed a young woman collapse in some night club because a disgusting guy had something else in mind. He’s well aware about so-called ‘rape drugs’ but never in a million years did he think that it would shatter him this deeply to witness someone as pure and beautiful and strong as Taylor fall victim to this crime. 

It might not be the first time he’s witnessing someone being drugged, but in this moment, while hearing her cries in his ear, is when he realizes that it is his first time witnessing someone he loves soo deeply being abused right in front of his eyes. Someone he swore he would protect at all costs. Someone who came here, to this place, just for him, relying on him to be safe. 

She thought she was safe here with him. 

“Trav..” she cries into his ear again, her arm moving up and down his, almost as if she’s looking for him. But he’s right here. Right here holding her in his arms.

“I’m here, I’m always here. Just close your eyes, and hold on, okay? You can do it.” He whispers into her ear over and over again. Cameras are pointing at them, even more so when the DJ decides to play one of Taylor’s songs as part of his set. The people in this club start singing it to her, yet Taylor is nowhere near being able to react. He doesn’t want her to have to witness this moment in her current state, just lovingly presses her face into his neck, turning his head to kiss her. His left hand is holding her upright while making his way through the crowd with her. His right hand is gently on her head, pressing it against his chest and shielding her from the crowds. It takes two minutes to get to the exit of the club. Two horrifying minutes until they have finally left the busy club and step into the big lobby connecting the club to their hotel. A few drunk people make their way over to them, phones directed at the both of them, asking Taylor for a picture. Travis is glad to find Ray pushing people out of the way whilst he’s busy just getting her to the elevator at the end of the room. He feels her exhausted moans with every step she has to take. Oh, what he would give to be able to carry her in this moment. What he would give to not have any people standing in this lobby, filming their every step. 

With his hand still pressing her head against his chest is when they finally make it to the elevator. Ray presses the button and they step inside. It takes another two seconds and the doors close. Finally. In this moment, he can finally breathe. With one swift motion, he’s lifted Taylor up, now carries her bridal style while standing in the elevator. Ray looks at Travis concerned, who’s just fully focused on Taylor. She mumbles a few anxious, crying, incomprehensible things into his chest. But all he does is kiss her, assure her that he’s here, that she’s not alone, that he’s taking care of her now.

“Does she need a doctor?” Ray says, doesn’t want to overstep Travis but is well aware that it’s his duty to make sure she’s safe. He’s getting paid to keep this woman safe and right now, she’s passed out in her boyfriend’s arms.

Travis looks into Ray’s eyes, and he shamefully nods. He feels so embarrassed to look into the security guard’s face. To know that this man also relied on Travis being there, while he kept his distance. 

“I think someone put something in her drink when I.. when I wasn’t there. I just don’t want to.. to find any tweets about this tomorrow. I’ll call Tree first and get someone to look at her.” 

Ray nods, asking Travis if he needs help. He shakes his head, is way too focused on Taylor in his arms. Her eyes are fully closed now, but she’s not sleeping. Suffering cries are still escaping her mouth every few seconds. Her hand is clawing into his shirt. Almost as if she’s desperate to hold onto him. Travis leans down again, kissing her face once more. He’s sweating, full of panic. All he can do is assure her that he’s here. That she’s safe. That she’s finally safe. For the first time really tonight.

A few moments later the elevator doors opens again and Travis manages to carry Taylor into the suite. Ray opens the door to their bedroom and helps Travis step inside with Taylor on his arm. He slowly walks up to her side of the bed, almost stumbling over one of her shoes she just dropped next to her bed before when getting ready for this night out. Breathing heavily, he slowly lays her down on top of the bed sheets. He just swallows seeing her so weak. Just the thought of this guy from before having exactly this view in mind makes him feel sick. Travis sits down on the bed right next to her, starts to unbutton the clasps of her heels. 

“Do you need help?”

“No, I’m.. I’m just gonna undress her so that she’s more comfortable and then call Tree. Can you… step outside please?” he says. Travis looks into Ray’s eyes and clearly sees him hesitate for a moment. He understands that his job is to make sure Taylor is safe. But in this moment, the only thing Travis cares about is that Taylor feels safe. And he will never in a million years strip her naked in her most vulnerable state, in front of a man who is working for her. 

“Buddy, I’m taking care of her. Please give us some privacy.” he says, adding a slightly annoyed “Please.”

The brown-haired man nods slowly, then closes the hotel door behind him. As soon as the door falls into the lock, Travis stops for a moment, just to breathe. He keeps on fiddling to unbutton the clasp of her high heels, realizing quickly that it’s difficult to open these with his big ass fingers. After a moment he then finally succeeds, carefully sliding the shoes from her feet. He looks back into her face, glad to have finally found her in a somewhat comfortable position. She doesn’t move, has both her eyes closed and doesn’t seem to notice him undressing her. The make up on her face is smudged from crying. Trav feels tears building up in his own eyes, just seeing her like this. He hates to do this to her, but has to reach for both of her shoulders to help her sit up for a moment. She opens her eyes, still seems to be asleep as he pulls her forward to let her fall into a hug with him. She turns her head, nuzzling into his neck as he starts to unzip the back of her black dress. She will thank him tomorrow for not making her sleep in this tight party dress.

“Almost done, baby. You’ll be so much more comfortable when this is off.” he mumbles. She lets out a cooing sound, and Travis carefully lets her fall back onto the pillow. She mumbles something incomprehensible again as he starts to pull down her dress. She’s not wearing a bra, and within a few seconds she’s lying there, on top of her bedsheet, fully exposed, in nothing but her thong. She doesn’t move as he just carefully hangs her dress over the chair behind him. The chair full of her stuff, that he so amusedly made fun about earlier today. Earlier, when she was just her bubbly, happy self. Not another drugged girl getting undressed while being unconscious. 

Travis feels tears building up in his eyes, again, and for a moment he realizes how sweaty he really is. Not because he just carried her to the room, but because the panic and fear on the inside are getting the very best of him right now. 

He reaches for his big red KC shirt that she always sleeps in, manages to pull the shirt over her head, and walk her dead arms into each sleeve, one by one. She just lets out a loud sigh. 

“I know, baby. I know.” 

A few seconds later, after having properly dressed her, he fiddles the blanket under her and manages to tuck her in. Finally. And then, for a moment, it’s finally silent. He just sits there, watching her sleep. His hand moves to her head, stroking gently over her head as he feels a tear run down his cheek. All he wanted was for her to have a fun weekend with him in Vegas. All she did was fly out for him, and ended up getting violated like this, under his own eyes. Trav moves closer to her and kisses her hot forehead a few times.

“You’re safe now. You’re safe. I’m right here, baby. I’m so sorry. So sorry.” he whispers, not sure if his words are meant to calm the blonde sleeping woman or himself. He double checks once more if her feet are properly tucked into the blanket, knowing very well that she gets cold feet quickly. Travis then stands up, reaching for the phone in his pocket and leaves the bedroom to call Tree. 

~ 

With shaking hands, Travis just sits there, leaning against the bed rest, listening to the man in front of him talk while not letting go of Taylor’s head on the pillow. He tries to take mental notes, feels the imminent pressure to make sure to remember everything exactly as the doctor is saying it. It’s okay for her to move in her sleep with the IV still attached. When she wakes up, he can help her remove the tube from her arm. If she wakes up before the IV liquid is fully absorbed, he needs to give her another aspirin tablet. If she starts to feel sick, it’s important to make sure she’s in a stable position. She should regain consciousness in a bit, but it’s advised for her to get another IV drip tomorrow morning. She will be okay. And if she’s not, he’s recommended to call 911 immediately. 

Travis just nods, taking mental notes. Ray is standing there at the other side of the room, still talking to Tree on the phone. Travis just slowly lets go of Taylor, gets up to thank the doctor for everything. He’s still shaking, still trying to make sense of what happened tonight. He’s just glad that a medical professional has looked at her. That her body is now being flushed with lots of nutrients and fluids to help get rid of whatever drug she was given. Ray hangs up the phone, as Travis signals him to come closer. It’s still pitch dark outside, the lights of the Las Vegas strip not looking half as magical as they did this morning. This morning when Taylor was her normal self, standing by these floor to ceiling windows. Her happy self being in awe, excited for a day at the golf field. And him holding her in his arms, appreciating each giggle escaping her lips with a gentle kiss on her cheek. The same morning, in which a certain person was probably already plotting to secretly mix something into her system. Knowing that she would be going out tonight. Knowing that he would give her space to chat with her friends, network, talk to strangers. 

Space to get drugged and taken advantage of. 

“I need to run downstairs and grab some sugary drinks for when she wakes up. Can you please stay here with her for a few minutes in case she wakes up?” Travis asks the security guard and Ray nods, a little confused about Travises sudden change of mind. A few minutes ago he wouldn’t dare to leave Taylor out of sight, but now he seems eager to run downstairs? 

Travis thanks him, leaves everything he owns, including his phone, in this room with her. With determined steps, he leaves the hotel room before the doctor even can, approaching the elevator doors as quickly as humanly possible. 

Driven by adrenaline and aggression, more than he’s ever felt before, Travis enters the night club again, just seconds later. He can immediately spot Ross and Harry, who are both approaching him with worried looks on their faces. 

“Bro, are you okay? Brit said that she saw you and…” 

But Travis doesn’t hear any of it. All he can see is the man from before still standing there, talking to a group of women. His brain is fully shut, and his instincts are taking over. As soon as he approaches the group, the man’s eyes look up to Travis. Within a split second, Travis’ fist lands in the man’s face. A solid punch. There’s blood running down his nose and people looking at him in shock. The women next to them are jolting to the side. The guy is holding his nose with a look on his face that shows Travis clearly that he knew exactly what this was for. 

“You little piece of shit, don’t you ever try that again.”

Both Harry and Ross have witnessed the situation, just gently holding Travis back as a security guard from the night club gets closer to them.

“Man, calm down. I bought her a drink. Nothing more.”

“He fucking drugged Tay.” Travis says to his friends in a rage, who both are trying to calm him. “This asshole is out here drugging women and you guys don’t do anything?!” he says loudly to the security guards who are signaling Travis to leave the club now before things will get ugly. He feels a new form of anger rise in his chest as he is asked to leave, but Ross and Harry manage to not just hold him back, but convince him to leave the club and make his way out to get some fresh air. 

~ 

Travis is used to feeling exhausted. He’s used to feeling drained, tired and knowing he’s spent all the energy in the world available to him. As an athlete, he’s learned to deal with these moments of lacking energy, learned to push through and know when and how to reload his energy storages. But in this moment, while sitting down next to Taylor on this hotel bed, finally alone with her, he can safely say that he’s never. Never in a million years felt a level of exhaustion as severe as this. 

For a third time tonight, he wipes away the sweat standing on his forehead. His gaze falls onto the Las Vegas Strip in front of him. The sun is slowly rising, more and more cars are driving down the streets. The next day is starting, almost as if nothing had happened. It’s all just an endless cycle. The days come, the nights end. No one really cares for you out there. No one really cares about things that happen to you while the world moves slowly on. 

He looks down to Taylor again. His world doesn’t. Her left arm is still on top of the bed sheets, connected to the liquid IV standing next to her bedside. There’s still mascara stuck on her cheek and her long, blonde, wavy hair is all over the place. There’s lipstick stains on her chin, but she looks peaceful. She finally does. Travis swallows, gets up and closes the curtains. Sleep. Sleep is what both of them need after this night. He pulls his shirt over his head, takes off his pants and just drops them on the floor. He likes to be in control of things, like to keep his things neat. But none of the things he possesses matter when it comes to her. Just the thought of losing her, of not being able to protect her, not being her safe haven tonight has made everything else feel so irrelevant to him. From the very first moment he fell for this woman, was when he promised himself and her to always keep her safe. He let her down tonight. He let her security team down too, but mostly, her. 

There’s a deep and heavy pressure on his chest. He’s guilty. He’s failed her.

Travis slips under the blanket too, finally placing his head on his pillow. It’s dark in the room now, but not as dark as he’d like it to be. The daylight is still fighting its way through the curtains. He places his arm protectively over her body, checking that the IV is still properly attached to her arm. He gets closer to her, kissing her cheek again. He sighs, allows himself to close his eyes for a moment then. 

“What happened?”

His eyes shut open in shock and to his surprise, he finds her looking at him. Her eyes are tiny and red, but her face is fully turned to him. He feels a wave of relief washing over him, followed by the need to just cry like a baby. He knew she would be okay, but being able to look into her eyes is giving him endless comfort right now. 

“Someone put something in your drink. How are you feeling?” he whispers. He can witness her eyelids still fighting to stay open. His big hand already on her cheek. 

“Horrible.” she mumbles. He quickly gets up again and walks over to her side of the bed. In nothing but his boxers, Travis sits down next to her. 

“Can you sit up for a moment? You should take this aspirin before going back to sleep. You’ll thank me tomorrow morning.” 

She nods, tries to find her strength to sit up, but struggles clearly. Travis helps her immediately, pulls her upright with both of his hands on her arms. 

“There you go.” he mumbles, already reaching for the water glass next to her. She looks disoriented, confused. Her eyes wandering to the liquid IV in her arm. 

“What..”

“We had a doctor come look at you. This will help you feel better soon, baby.”

She doesn’t react, just nods and opens her mouth for him to place the aspirin pill on her tongue. A second later he then holds the glass of water closer to her mouth and she gulps it down as quickly as she can. 

“Good job.” Trav mumbles, placing the glass on her bedside table again. There’s a drop of water running down her chin and his thumb is quick enough to wipe it away for her. 

“Did.. did anyone see me like this?” she mumbles then in deep worry, while clearly struggling to stay awake. He snuggles himself under the blanket with her again, helping her lay down properly. This time she’s facing him, makes it clear to him that she wants to be close. His hand lands on her cheek and in her neck, his lips finding their way onto her forehead. 

“I don’t think so. I managed to get you up here quickly. Spoke to Tree and the guy who got you the IV signed an NDA. No one will have to find out about this, sweetie. Don’t worry.” 

She nods slightly, her eyes closed. Travis takes a deep breath. She needs her sleep. Badly. He kisses her forehead one last time, then lets go of her. As soon as his hand leaves her neck is when she opens her eyes and her dry mouth once more. 

“Stay here, please.” 

He nods, moves closer and helps her bury herself completely in his arms. Her cold feet are now pressed between his warm legs, and her torso is wrapped fully into his arms. He kisses her head again and again, hoping to get her to fall asleep. 

Suddenly she moves again, sitting up for a moment. Trav looks at her, ready to grab the trash can a few inches away from him in case she's getting sick. 

“You good…”

She turns around and reaches for his hand. She looks at his bruised hand in shock, then back at him. 

“I punched the guy who did this to you. Broke his nose. Also, I’m banned from entering this shitty club ever again. Fucking shit hole.” 

She looks at him, drops her head on his chest in disbelief and closes her eyes. He giggles slightly at her reaction, more than glad that she seems to have regained enough consciousness to worry about his bruised hand. His healthy hand now lands on top of her head protectively. 

“What the fuck.” she whispers and he can’t argue with her. This whole night is a whole lot of what the fuck. 

“I’m just..” he looks at the ceiling, Taylor on his chest, being fully aware of the fact that she’s probably already asleep again. 

“I’m just so sorry for not.. not being there when this happened. I never wanted you to feel unsafe with me. I just..” 

“You’re literally the safest place I’ve ever known, idiot.” She croaks then, and he looks down and swallows. He didn’t expect her to answer him, didn’t expect her to actually hear him and certainly did not expect her to say something as fundamental as this. 

“I think..” she’s tired, struggling to find words and Travis moves immediately, his finger on her lips, signaling her that she doesn’t have to say anything to him right now. She needs to rest. That’s all she needs to do. Taylor understands, her eyes closed again. Travis kisses her forehead one last time before attempting to get some sleep as well. 

“I think I’m so lucky that something like this happened to me when you were there. And even when I couldn’t walk or speak or see or move my hands, I just.. knew you would take care of me. That’s how safe I feel with you.” she says with a broken voice, both eyes closed. Trav moves his mouth closer to her temple, his lips finding her skin. He kisses her on this spot for the longest time, tears streaming out of his eyes and onto the soft fabric of his pillow. 

[woso-fan13]

Whumptober 2023: 5 (Barca)

No. 5: “You better pray I don't get up this time around.”

Debris | Pinned Down | “It's broken.”

For whatever reason, Madrid really had it out for you. Usually, they were a little rough with everyone, but today it seemed like you had a target on your back. Multiple players had gotten yellow cards because of what they did to you- illegal tackles, hair pulling, the works. It was an attestment to how well you were playing, but it still hurt. 

Your teammates had refrained from getting revenge, not that they didn’t want to. But you popped up from the ground every time, giving a thumbs up to them. Were you really okay? No, but you needed your teammates to not start attacking the opponents so you smiled through the pain. 

The final whistle had just blown, but before you could stop you felt a Madrid player tackling you. Your head crashed into the pitch, bouncing from the impact. Your legs were slit open from her cleats, blood dripping. It was bad. 

You can faintly hear shouting- you would later learn it was your teammates yelling at your attacker. You squint your eyes open, not remembering shutting them. The sun was hurting your eyes, but, as you went to close them again, a gentle hand rested on your cheek. 

“Cálmate pequeña, estás bien.”

You know that voice, but you can’t remember who it is. You can, however, remember that the person who hurt you spoke Spanish. Whining, you try to move away from the voice, afraid that whoever it was would hurt you again. 

Alexia frowns at your reaction, again trying to soothe you. But, when you hear the Spanish, you try to move away. This time, though, she could hear you mumbling- pleading to her not to hurt you. Her heart broke. 

She stands from where she had crouched next to you, quickly shifting to kneel by your head. Grabbing your shoulders, she pins you down. You cry out, helpless. Alexia wants nothing more than to scoop you into her arms and hold you. She wants to reassure you, but she can’t. All she can do is keep you still so you don’t injure yourself even more. 

“It’s okay,” she says quietly, “we’re going to help you.”

“Lucy, Kiera,” she shouts, “I need help.”

Upon hearing their names, the two girls race towards you. They knew it must be bad, if Alexia couldn’t calm you down they didn’t know how they would be able to. Dropping to their knees on either side of you, they look to Alexia as to how they can help. 

“You need to take her,” Alexia says, emotion evident in her voice, “please. She’s afraid of me, I think she might react better to you.”

With a confused look, Lucy and Kiera nod. Lucy moves to take Alexia’s spot, pinning you down to the pitch. Kiera cups a hand to your cheek, leaning down and speaking quietly to you. 

The medics arrive soon after, trying to shoo the women away. Neither are deterred, staying where they are and only shifting to allow the medics room to assess you. They quickly begin to assess you, clearing your spine and allowing Lucy to release her grip. It’s clear that you have a concussion and your legs will need to be taken care of, but for now they wrap the cuts up in gauze. Once you're calmed, it would be easier to treat you. 

“You’re alright, little bit,” Lucy says, pushing the baby hairs off of your face. 

You whine again, but your eyes flutter open and the women watch as you look around dazedly.

“I- I wan-” you can’t seem to find the words, but the others know what, or who, you’re looking for. 

“She’s right here, she’s coming” Kiera assures you, gesturing Alexia back over. 

She crouches by your side. Once she’s in your line of sight, you pitifully reach your arms out to her. Combined with the pout on your face, it’s hard to resist. 

“Lexi, please,” you beg. 

Alexia can no longer contain herself, moving to sit fully on the ground. She reaches down, hands under your shoulder blades to pull your torso up. Once you’re close enough, you flop into her body.

“Shh, mija, I’m right here.”

Your hands are tangled in the back of her jersey, ensuring she won’t pull away. Not that she ever would, she’s not leaving your side. Awake and oriented, you snuggle into Alexia as she holds you close. 

[idiswhadidis]

remind me why we're taking a break

ex-bf jungwon x fem. reader

sypnosis you both are taking a break - genre fluff, exes? to lovers - warnings a lil makeout session - wc 0,6k

a/n. hii, i'm still alive wohoo so i got a bit inspired by touch it by ariana grande but it's nothing like the song lol, anyways have fun reading it woop woop.

“remind me again why you two broke up?” Sunoo asks,  Jungwon pops his head up from the cafeteria table which he was slumped over 

“we didn’t broke up, we’re just taking a break” 

“i for sure hope you both get your asses back together cause the amount of complains i got from each of you is ridiculous” hearing his response had Jungwon ears perk up

“each of us? you mean?”

“of course i mean her who fucking else?”

“what is she saying about this uhm situation?” 

“not gonna tell you, you should go to her and talk things out cause taking a break is a shitty excuse for chickening out of your realationship problems”

 “well no need to call us out Sunoo” fake smiling at him

“all i'm saying is, if i hear another i miss her/him i'm gonna burn something up, definetly not because i'm too single for this shit but you both need each other so please make the first move cause we both know how stubborn Y/n can be”

nodding and standing up full of motivation “you’re right this is bullshit, i will go to her and talk things out, damn Sunoo didn’t know you are a motivation coach” 

“you’re welcome now get your girl” nodding his head with dedication in his eyes, turning around searching for you. 

you were leaning on your locker while talking to your friend until she fell silent and wiggled her eyebrows at you saying “target on six o’clock”,  turning around to see what she’s on about..

..your eyes going wide when you see him to slow to think where to go when he already has your hand interlocked with his, dragging you into an empty classroom, shutting the door and locking it

he turns around seeing you looking around the classroom nervously playing with your fingers

“let’s talk y/n” 

“about what?” 

“us” 

“we’re on break just like you wanted it” you state looking at him confused 

he shakes his head “i didn’t want that. never.” he walks to you, standing centimeters away from each other 

“but you said-” 

he takes your hands into his running his thumbs over your soft skin 

“i know what i said but i just said that cause i thought you would say we should break up so i suggested taking a break, and then you suddenly said yes which had my heart acatually break” staring at him like you just saw a ghost damn this was such a misunderstanding 

“are you aware that you actually never let me finish my sentence that day?” 

“what you mean?” looking at you with his boba eyes

“we should breath first and calm ourselves down? thats what i wanted to say but you asumed that the word breath would be the word break"

staring at you, mouth wide open in shock “you gotta be kidding” shaking your head “but why did you say yes when i said we should take a break?” 

“cause i didn’t want to lose you...” making his heart flutter “...i was afraid that if i wouldn’t say yes you would break up with me”  

shaking his head, grabbing your waist tugging you into him, lips not far away from yours

“god i'm so sorry for misunderstanding this i really should learn to let you finish your sentences..” putting his hands underneath your shirt kneading your skin lovingly

“..please tell me we’re done with this cause i'm going crazy without you and we can’t keep bothering Sunoo with it cause he said he would burn something up if he would hear one of us complain again” 

nodding and giggling while you tug him down by his shirt to finally kiss him, him immediately responsing and grabbing each of your legs wrapping them around his waist walking to a table letting you sit on it

trailing his lips down to your neck up to your cheeks your nose and your mouth again

cupping one of your cheeks while the other tucks your hair behind your ear, looking at your dazed state “god i love you” 

whispering against his lips “love you too”

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hi! Would it be possible to see the party or the older group see Steve’s father first hand? Like realizing that Steve’s been abused and learning how much shit he goes through on the daily with them and then his family?

This one was so difficult emotionally. I leaned real heavy into the emotional and verbal abuse (the use of a slur does happen), briefly mentioned some past physical abuse, but then the rest was just some supportive Eddie, supportive Robin, supportive kids, and I threw in some supportive Wayne because I can't resist. I hope the soft supportive stuff makes up for what I put Steve through at the beginning! - Mickala ❤️

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

It was supposed to be the first movie night with all of them together post-Vecna, post-Eddie and Max getting out of the hospital, post-almost losing everything.

It was supposed to be relaxing and fun.

It was not.

Just when they all settled with their snacks and drinks, the movie’s opening credits rolling, a car pulled into the driveway.

Steve did a quick headcount of everyone present, wondering if somehow someone was running late.

But everyone was here.

“Why is every light in the house on?” He heard his dad’s voice ask outside the front door.

Shit.

Everyone looked at Steve, eyes wide, but frozen in place, no idea what to do.

Well, he didn’t know what to do either.

Last time he saw his dad was his high school graduation, and that hadn’t ended well. They’d only spoken on the phone twice since then: once when he told him about the mall fire and once about the pool cleaner going out of business.

Before he could think of what to do or say, his dad was walking into the living room.

That was the same scowl Steve got when he didn’t get into college.

Oh boy.

“Steven. Care to explain why I have a house full of children and teenagers?”

He didn’t know what came over him; Maybe it was just a false bravado put on because he knew his dad wouldn’t do anything to him in front of all these people or maybe he just had a thoughtless reaction.

“They’re all teenagers actually. We’re having movie night.”

His dad’s face went nearly purple with rage.

Not just anger. Pure, unfiltered, and completely undeserved rage.

Eddie spoke up first, thankfully distracting the kids from the explosion that was probably about to occur.

“It’s been so nice of Steve to open up his home to kids who needed a place to go to stay out of trouble. After the quake, it’s been difficult, you know?”

How he managed to say any of that with a straight face, Steve didn’t know.

But he was grateful.

His dad looked around at the mix of kids.

To an outsider, their group definitely didn’t make sense.

To his dad, he’d see a bunch of kids he didn’t know suddenly aware of where all of his valuables in his house were.

“And you are?”

Richard Harrington’s scowl had lessened slightly, but disgust started taking over as he looked at Eddie.

“Oh! I’m Eddie Munson. Yes, related to that Munson, but only by blood.”

Eddie was confident, calm, not backing down even a little as Richard’s eyes squinted at him, judgment clear as day on his face.

“Steven, I need to speak with you alone.”

His dad didn’t give him a chance to respond before he was walking out of the room towards the kitchen.

Everyone was looking at Steve, he could feel their looks burning the back of his and side of his face. Eddie and Robin were closest to him, so he could see out of the corner of his eyes their panic at the situation.

Steve got up and walked to the kitchen, no one trying to stop him because no one knew what his father was capable of.

He never let them know what his father was capable of.

When he got to the kitchen, his father was sipping a glass of water, his stance more relaxed but still too stiff to be considered casual.

“Where’s mom?” Steve asked hesitantly, quietly, the way he’d been taught from a young age to approach his dad.

“She’s with friends in Jamaica. We’ll be meeting up in New York in two days. Care to explain what the hell is going on?”

Steve gulped.

He wasn’t yelling yet, but he wasn’t whispering either. He knew the group of kids in the other room would be listening to every single movement and breath in here, ready to burst in if needed.

“It’s like Eddie said, they just need somewhere to hang out and I have plenty of space-“

“You? You have plenty of space? Since when do you pay the bills here? Since when is the mortgage in your name?”

His dad was good at the false calm, the even tone, the emotionless face.

Until he wasn’t.

“Sorry. I’ll take them home.”

Steve bit his lip. It’s been a while since he had to deal with his father like this, and the tears he normally could hold back until he was in his room were threatening to fall already.

“You drive them around, too? Do you feed them? Take them to appointments? What don’t you do for them? And that Eddie guy, you know his dad’s been in prison for six years for drug trafficking and grand theft auto? You want someone like that in my house?” His dad set his water down on the counter next to him. “That girl. Is she your girlfriend? Who are her parents? I don’t think I’ve seen her before. You know what we’ve told you about setting the right future with the right woman. If we don’t know her parents, then she can’t be the right one.”

Steve could do this. He could just let his dad get it all out and then get everyone to leave and hide in his room.

Maybe it wouldn’t even be a problem tomorrow, forgotten like he always was.

“Are you going to answer me or am I supposed to read your mind?”

Steve cleared his throat, hoping his voice would come out strong and confident.

“I’m their babysitter, so I take care of them when they need it and sometimes that means driving them places. Robin isn’t my girlfriend, she’s just a friend.”

He couldn’t talk about Eddie, and he hoped his dad didn’t push it.

But his dad always pushed it.

“Eddie Munson is not to come into this house again. I’m calling to get the locks changed tomorrow and contacting the neighbors to tell them to call my secretary if they see his van.”

“Dad, wait-“

“Are you arguing with me?”

His face had gone red, and Steve knew he was only reigning it in because of the people in the living room.

He knew when they left, he’d wish he left too.

“No, sir. Sorry.”

“It doesn’t really sound like you mean it. You know, I was hoping that you would have reapplied to colleges for next year by now. I thought surely having a job and focusing on your future would set you on the right path. That maybe you and Nancy Wheeler would work it out by the time she graduated. Clearly, I should’ve been requiring updates more often. Adulthood isn’t about babysitting, Steven. And it’s certainly not about entertaining friends unless you plan on making a business deal.”

Steve was used to the spiel.

This job is temporary. You have to go to college. You will work for me. You will make our name proud. Blah, blah, blah.

But that’s never been what he wants. He knows his dad knows that, probably gave up hope when he was in high school anyway, but wouldn’t let it go. The opportunity to degrade him would always be the most important thing.

“It’s been a really busy month.”

“Oh has it? Please explain how you’ve had a busy month.”

He crossed his arms and waited for Steve to start talking.

Steve knew he’d already lost.

He’d never won before, so it shouldn’t be as disappointing as it is.

“Just with the quake and everything.”

“The house is fine. This whole neighborhood is fine. There’s plenty of places still open for work. I’m not sure why you think that’s an excuse.”

“I was dealing with some injuries and helping a few of the people out there with theirs.”

“So you got paid for being a nurse?”

“No. I didn’t get paid, I just helped.”

Steve was met with silence. Silence was almost worse than yelling.

“And you expect me to take you seriously as someone who is jobless, not going to college, and is helping people for free?”

Steve didn’t know what to say. If he said yes, his father would do that laugh that he did when he couldn’t believe how stupid Steve was and then yell and who knows what else. If he said no, he would go straight to yelling about how Steve can’t be taken seriously if he doesn’t even take himself seriously.

He heard some movement in the other room, whispering, then the front door opening.

Good. If they were gone, Steve wouldn’t have to be embarrassed or ashamed of what his dad would say or do.

The front door closed and Steve’s shoulders dropped. He wasn’t relaxed, but he was settling into what he knew was coming in, preparing for the verbal beatdown followed by whatever physical blow his father thought was appropriate for him.

“Don’t even want to explain yourself? Not even try?” Richard let out a small huff. “You know, I told your mom that you must be working so much, and that’s why you never answered the phone when we called. I stuck up for you, even though a small part of my brain kept saying that I shouldn’t. You’ve never impressed me before, why would you start now?”

Steve looked down at the floor, knowing he would only get away with it for a few more seconds at this rate.

“And then I even started mentioning to my buddies that you must be putting in so much effort with college applications, giving them an honest go so you could follow your girlfriend wherever she goes. But that just wouldn’t happen, would it? Nancy will go to an Ivy League school, make a name for herself, impress the world. And what will you do, Steven? You can’t even impress me.”

“You know, I’m used to shitty parenting. I had a mom who thought drugs were more important than me and a dad who spent more time in a jail cell than with me. But you’re real special, Richard.”

Eddie walked into the kitchen, face red with an anger that looked like it could match Steve’s dad.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on. You haven’t spent more than a few hours with your kid since he was probably in diapers, and even the time you do spend with him is probably just you letting him know how disappointed you are that he isn’t the smartest person alive.”

“You have no right-”

“Oh, I do, though. See, Steve is the reason I’m even alive. And while you may think that’s not a gift, maybe you even think the world would be better off without me, a whole lot of people are glad I’m still around, including Steve. In fact, pretty sure most of the kids you saw in that living room before wouldn’t be alive without him. Robin sure wouldn’t be. You only put value in what Steve can do to make you look better and how much earning potential he has, and forget that his value comes from the fact that he cares so deeply about all of us and does whatever it takes for us to be safe and happy.”

“I don’t see how that is a benefit to me or to him in the long run, and I’d appreciate if you watch your-”

“It is truly amazing how Steve turned out the way he did when you so clearly couldn’t be bothered being a parent.” Eddie shook his head. “Actually, I take that back. It’s clearly in large part because you didn’t bother trying that he managed to turn out okay.”

“Eds,” Steve started, holding a hand out to him to try to get him to stop.

Richard was starting to get the purple color to his face that meant he would be completely losing it soon.

“No, Steve. Let him take it out on me. If he wants to be mad, he can be mad at me. I don’t give a shit what he thinks about me. I don’t give a shit what he says to me. I don’t give a shit if he wants to hit me. Go ahead and do it, Richard. Take out your anger about being a shitty human and having a shitty marriage and shitty job on me instead of Steve for once.”

Eddie moved in front of Steve, head held high like he was proud to be there.

Like he would always stand in front of Steve if he let him.

Steve didn’t want to let him, though. Not after all he did to keep him safe and alive.

Steve’s first ever concussion didn’t come from an accident, or an alternate dimension creature. It came from his dad hitting just a bit too hard, aiming just right over his ear. His ear didn’t stop ringing for days, and he had his first real migraine for more than 24 hours.

No one knew that and he wanted to keep it that way, but he needed Eddie to understand he couldn’t put himself in the line of fire here.

“Eddie, please.”

Then Richard laughed.

Steve hated his laugh.

“I see now. I can’t believe you’ve found a new way to let me down, but you did it. I’m almost impressed, Steven.”

Steve glanced between Eddie’s face and his dad’s.

Something had shifted and Steve didn’t know what.

“You know I didn’t believe the rumors about you being a fag, just thought you were weird and a nobody and people were spewing extra bullshit because they didn’t like you. Now I see they were right,” Richard practically spit the last words.

Steve could see Eddie shaking in front of him, but he didn’t back down. He didn’t run.

“And you went and fell in love with my idiot son. Steve, did he turn you into one too?”

“Steve, you don’t have to answer anything,” Eddie said without turning to him.

Steve’s brain was going about 100 miles per hour.

He knew Eddie liked men. They’d talked about it when he accidentally came out when he was high on morphine in the hospital. He even offered to drive him and Robin to a place in Indy where they might actually meet someone.

He turned it down then and they barely spoke about it since.

He watched as Eddie’s entire body tensed, like he expected Steve to hit him.

Then the other part registered. The part where his dad said Eddie fell in love with Steve.

Steve laughed.

Eddie flinched.

Steve stopped laughing.

“This is gold. You didn’t even know, did you Steven?”

For the first time, Eddie was looking down at the floor, his hair falling in front of him to hide his face.

Steve wasn’t having it, not now, not from his dad, not because of something like this. Even if it was true…well, if it was true, then Eddie didn’t deserve it coming out like this.

“You know what? You’ve spent my entire life telling me who I should be. You worked so hard to mold me into a person as miserable as you. You almost succeeded. Luckily, I met people who made me want to be better, who made me better. Eddie is one of those people. He says I saved him, but he saved me first. He only needed saving because he wanted me to live. You didn’t even bother to come home to make sure I was okay after the quake.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic. You’re a grown man. We would have been called if you were in the hospital.”

“No you wouldn’t. You haven’t been my emergency contact in three years.”

His dad went pale at that.

“What do you mean? Who else?”

“Joyce Byers was, and then since last summer, it’s been Robin. They actually would come if I needed them.”

Eddie seemed to regain some of his composure, looking up at Richard with disdain.

“Kind of crazy how your son has so many people who love him for who he is and you can’t even be bothered to show up when he almost dies.” Eddie turned to Steve with a small, sad smile. “C’mon. Robin took the kids home in my van and I need a ride.”

“Steven, if you walk out the door, you better understand you won’t be welcome back here. Not with the disrespect you’ve shown me.”

“And the disrespect you’ve shown me? Eddie? My friends? What about that?”

Richard was silent, his teeth gritting together as he seethed to himself instead of out loud for once.

“Stevie, go grab some stuff from your room just in case, okay? I’ll wait here,” Eddie whispered.

“Eds, it’s fine. I won’t leave you alone with him,” Steve whispered back.

“I’m fine, Stevie. You can stay with me and Wayne tonight.”

Steve decided now wasn’t the time to talk, not while his father could hear.

He pulled Eddie along with him up the stairs, not giving him or his dad a chance to say anything else.

He grabbed the bag he kept under his bed for this kind of situation, already full of his savings, two sets of clothes, and important papers his dad probably didn’t even know he kept copies of: his birth certificate and social security card, the registration for the car showing it was in Steve’s own name, and the official copies of his trust fund documents.

He didn’t even know if Eddie had tried speaking to him again since coming in the room, he was too focused on getting out of there.

He thought about what he would do if his dad changed the locks before he could come back to get the rest of his stuff, which was likely.

He could find new clothes, he could replace his shampoo, but he glanced at his desk, where he kept pictures on a corkboard.

“Can you grab that board?”

Eddie looked over where Steve was staring and quickly grabbed it off the hooks on the wall.

“Thanks.”

“Anything you need.”

Steve tried not to think about it. He really did.

So he rushed back out of his room, down the stairs, and to the front door, Eddie close on his heels.

He got in his car, didn’t even stop to think about this being the last time he may be here.

Once Eddie closed the passenger door, he was backing out of the driveway and continuing out of the neighborhood.

They rode in silence for a couple miles, until Steve’s hands started shaking and Eddie told him to pull over.

“I’m gonna drive, okay? Robin’s probably waiting at mine already.”

Steve couldn’t argue, he knew he was too emotional to be behind the wheel. He may have only had a few more miles to go, but anything could happen if he wasn’t focused.

He zoned out on the rest of the drive. Eddie could have been trying to talk, but he didn’t hear it. The radio may have been on, but he didn’t hear it.

He didn’t even notice when they arrived at Eddie’s trailer until his door was opening and Robin was there, hands on his arms and rambling nervously.

“Oh my God, did he hurt you? I will go back there right now if you have so much as a hair out of place. He is such an asshole. Seriously, who does he think he is talking to you like that? Does he always say that kinda stuff? You need to get out of there. You can sleep in my attic or something, we’ll figure it out. I-”

“Robin, give him some air,” Eddie said softly, pulling her away from him and leaning down so he was face to face with Steve. “Stevie, do you wanna go inside? I’ll take Robin home and you can get settled.”

“Wait. He’s staying here tonight? Is he gonna live here now?” Robin was asking, pacing behind Eddie.

“He’s staying here tonight and maybe longer. We’ll talk about it all tomorrow. For now, he just needs to get inside and rest, okay?”

“Did he hurt him?”

“No, Robbie. He didn’t put his hands on him.”

“But he hurt him.”

Eddie sighed and nodded.

Steve looked at him, then at her, giving them both a small smile.

“I’m okay guys. I can drive Robin home. Maybe get a motel for the week.”

“Steve.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine.”

Eddie put his hand on his knee, squeezing gently.

“You’re not fine. You can stay with me tonight and we can figure it out more tomorrow, okay?”

Steve knew he wasn’t going to win. They’d take his keys and carry him into Eddie’s trailer. They would make all the kids come over to make sure he wouldn’t leave.

He loved them for it.

“Fine.”

“Thank you,” Eddie said with relief. “Alright, Robbie. Get in the van, I’ve got a date with my couch tonight I just can’t miss.”

Robin rolled her eyes, but Steve was already zoning out again.

“Stevie? Wayne’s up, I see the light on. He can help you get settled.”

“He won’t be upset?”

Eddie’s face fell.

“No, swe-” Eddie cleared his throat. “He won’t be upset. He’ll be happy to have someone other than me to talk to.”

Steve nodded once, grabbed his bag from the floor by his feet, and got out of his car.

He could feel Robin and Eddie staring as he made his way into the trailer, heard their muttering, but not quite what they were muttering.

Being inside the trailer felt different, better. It felt like a home. Wayne had worked hard on making it cozy the moment the government had it brought here to replace their old one.

But Steve realized even without a lot of things, it still felt lived in.

He could feel how much love was in these walls, how safe he felt just standing in the living room.

“Eddie, that you?” Wayne called from the bathroom down the hall.

“No, sir, it’s Steve!”

“Steve!” Wayne came around the corner with a towel around his neck, shaving cream on his face. “Didn’t expect you. Thought it was movie night tonight.”

“Um. It was. I’m staying here tonight if that’s okay,” Steve said, looking down at the floor and kicking one foot against the carpet.

He could feel Wayne staring at him, but he didn’t think he had the strength to see him turn him away.

“Of course it’s okay. You’re welcome anytime, you know that.”

Steve nodded.

“You know where Eddie’s room is, go ahead and set your stuff in there. I’ll finish up and then grab you something to drink. Want a snack?”

“Oh. Um. No thank you. I’m pretty tired, so I think I might just go to bed.”

“You sure, kid?”

“Mhm. I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.”

Wayne was coming closer, he could see his feet shuffling against the carpet.

A hand was suddenly on Steve’s shoulder.

“Son, I don’t know what’s goin’ on, but I know I ain’t lettin’ you leave here tomorrow without talkin’ first. You ain’t botherin’ me if you need to stay here for a bit. We don’t have much, but we can figure it out.”

Steve sniffled. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t.

“Steve. Can I…shit, hold on. I got stuff on my face. Don’t move!”

Steve waited for Wayne to go back to the bathroom. He heard the sink turn on and Wayne grumbled something about how long it takes to get hot water in this dump. He let himself smile, mostly because Eddie had done the same thing when he was having to take careful showers while he was still healing. Wayne was walking back out of the bathroom, using the towel around his neck to pat his face dry.

“Can I hug you, kid?”

Steve just stared at him.

“Steve? You can say no. Just seemed like you might need one.”

He did need one.

Before he comprehended what he was doing, he fell into Wayne’s arms and let out a sob.

“It’s alright, son. It’s gonna be alright. We’ve got ya. Whatever it is, you’re safe here.”

His words just made Steve sob harder.

But Wayne gripped him harder, not even giving him the chance to think he was letting him go.

They stood like that for a while, probably too long, but Steve couldn’t pull away.

He heard the front door open and then Eddie asking something.

“Just needed to cry it out a little. You alright, Steve?”

Steve sniffed, pulling away so he could look at Eddie.

Eddie was watching him, concerned eyes watery with unshed tears.

“Stevie? Have you been crying the whole time?”

“No,” Steve said, his voice barely able to choke out a response.

“How about you boys head on to bed? I’m gonna be watchin’ my shows for a bit if you need me.”

“Alright, love you,” Eddie said, not taking his eyes off of Steve.

“Love ya both,” Wayne said.

Steve was at least able to hold himself together until he made it to Eddie’s room.

Then, he let go.

He let himself fall to his knees, let himself fall apart, for probably the first time ever.

He didn’t think about what Eddie would do or what Eddie would say or even what Eddie would think.

He just let himself feel the overwhelming sadness that comes from not being loved by a parent.

“Sweetheart, come here,” Eddie said into his ear as he pulled him to his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. Let it out. You’ve held it in too long.”

He had. God, he really had.

For years, he just pretended his dad was an asshole who didn’t come home often and had high expectations. He pretended his mom was just an important part of his business and that’s why she never bothered to stay home with him.

But for years, he knew that his parents just didn’t like him. They were disappointed in him as a son, and as a person.

He cried for the ten year old version of him who didn’t realize it would be his last birthday with his parents at home. He cried for the 12 year old version of him who had to forge a signature on his field trip form because his parents hadn’t been home in a month. He cried for the 16 year old version of him who was old enough not to need his parents most of the time but not old enough to be completely alone after his world turned upside down.

He cried for the version of him who couldn’t understand how so many people put their lives on the line for him, but his own parents couldn’t even call.

He cried because he knew that he would never be loved or accepted by his parents the way Wayne had just wholeheartedly accepted him, no questions asked.

“Stevie, you gotta take a few deep breaths, okay. In and out. Wanna try it with me?”

Steve felt the rumble of Eddie’s voice in his chest against his ear, felt him take a deep breath and tried to copy him, but his chest hurt and he couldn’t.

“Try again.”

So he did. And then again.

By the fourth time, it was easier. His lungs filled all the way, and he slowly let the air out. His face was wet, Eddie’s shirt was wet. He could feel snot dripping from his nose.

He knew Eddie didn’t sign up for this when he offered his place for the night.

He started to pull away, furiously wiping his eyes and face the best he could.

“Sorry. I’ll uh. I can go.”

“Steve,” Eddie wrapped his arms around him and pulled him back so his back was against Eddie’s chest. “I want you to stay, okay? I need you to stay. I’ll feel better if you stay.”

Steve relaxed against Eddie’s body, the comfort too nice to give up at the moment.

They stayed like that for a while, Eddie’s fingers tracing shapes against Steve’s arms.

“Eddie?”

“Hm?”

“Was he right?”

“About what?”

“You being in love with me?”

Eddie’s fingers stopped tracing for a moment, but then started back up. He could hear Eddie’s heartbeat quicken behind him.

“Would it be bad if he was right?”

Eddie sounded like he was going to cry now.

“No. It wouldn’t be bad at all.”

Steve knew he was emotional, and maybe now wasn’t the time to have this talk. Maybe they wouldn’t even have the whole talk they should have. But he knew that he wanted to tell Eddie what he’d been thinking about for, truly, weeks now.

“You remember in the hospital when you were high on morphine and you kept touching my cheek and telling me that you wanted to kiss the freckle that was right where I should have a dimple?”

“I don’t and I wish you didn’t.”

Steve let out a snort.

“Well, I couldn’t forget about it. And not just because you also had just come out to me, or because you were alive. I just kept thinking about how much I wanted you to kiss that freckle.”

“Stevie…”

“I know you’re gonna tell me we shouldn’t do this tonight. You’re right, we shouldn’t. But I need you to know that it’s not a new thing for me, that I love you, too.”

He felt a kiss to the top of his head.

It felt like Eddie just kissed every worry, every stress, every bad part of the night away.

“You’re right about not doing anything tonight. You’ve had a lot of emotions and you need to sleep it off a bit. But I’ll be right next to you. I’m here, Stevie. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“You’ll stay here tonight?”

“If that’s what you want, sweetheart.”

“Mhm. I do.”

“Let’s get comfy then.”

Steve pulled away to stand up, but Eddie held his hand so he wouldn’t stand yet.

“We’re not doing anything, but. I kinda need to kiss you. If you’re good with that,” Eddie said, eyes wide with hope.

“I’m good with that,” Steve smirked.

When Eddie leaned in to kiss him, he kept his eyes open. Only long enough to see Eddie’s close and a small smile appear on his face, but it was a moment he would never forget. The first of so many moments he would never forget.

[honey-on-mars]

Jellybean? really? come on.

Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

genre: fluff

Summary: pregnant reader doesn’t know how to tell Logan that she’s Pregnant, but the beans spill at Erik and Raven’s wedding.

I’ve been off all day, I can’t seem to find a time or a way to tell Logan the news, and it’s killing me but I’m nervous he’ll react badly. Logan and I are currently at Erik and Raven’s wedding, which they decided to at the school that my brother, Charles, opened to help mutants learn to control their powers and live in a society with humans. We’re currently eating the we got from the buffet and it’s delicious. I slide my hands down my dress brushing off any crumbs of food. As I stood up, I decided to slip out onto the deck to get some fresh air, once my foot touched the ground outside, and the cool air hit my skin, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My hair immediately blew into my face, causing me to swipe my hair to the side. It’s not until a few moments later that I notice Logan standing by the door watching me. His deep voice calms me as he moves his hands to rest around my waist, hugging me from behind, "Hey bub, is everything alright? You’ve barely spoken a word all night? Normally you love talking and seeing everyone" the hot air from his mouth brushing against my neck. I relax my body against his my head nuzzling into his shoulder, I give him a simple response, "Yeah everything's fine, just been tired lately, came out for some air".

I feel him raise his brows into my neck, even though I wasn’t looking at him I could clearly the look on his face in my head. He knew I was lying to him, that there was something wrong. I sighed and just stared at the ground for a moment before he said, "Y/n, I'm not a telepath like your brother. I’m not able to read your mind when you’re upset and I can’t tell what you’re thinking right now, so please just tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. please. just so I can help ease your worries" Others might not have been able to tell if they heard him but I knew he was sincerely begging me to tell him. I sigh before turning my body to face him, his arms still wrapped around me. He lifted his head from my shoulder and leaned into my forehead instead, "Logan…I love you, so much. which is why I need for you to listen carefully and not freak out with what I’m about to tell you." I sigh, taking a deep breath, my eyes shut, and my head tilts downward slightly. Logan grabs my chin with his thumb and index finger lifting my head to face him again.“Love, please tell me… you’re making me nervous” I open my eyes again staring into his that are filled with love and worry for me, and that’s when I know I was worried for nothing. “Logan, my love…I’m pregnant.” his eyes widened, and for a split second, worry and fear overcame me again. But soon I’m being lifted into the air, with Logan peppering kisses onto my face repeatedly telling me I love you, and for just a split second I’m fairly certain he’s forgotten how to breathe. Then he finally sets me down and asks “I’m gonna be a father...like for real? seriously? This isn’t some cruel joke?”He takes my hands in his own and I rub my thumb against the back of his hand reassuring him. "It's not a joke. You know I'd never mess with you like that." Then suddenly I’m up in the air all over again, except this time he’s spinning me in circles laughing, my hands cup his face and I’m leaning my forehead into his. As he gently sets me back down I kiss his lips softly and say “I love you too, and I’m sure our little jellybean will love you just as much” Then his eyebrow arches in that way same way it always does, “Jeallybean? really? come on.” I look back at him, “Are you gonna be carrying a baby for nine months or am I? Answer carefully Mr. Howlett” he easily relents “you. you are. you’re going to be carrying my baby in that wonderful body of yours, Mrs. Howlett” I smiled, leaning up on my toes, and wrapping my arms around his neck. "We're gonna have a baby," I say, the giddy in my voice clearly evident. He rests his forehead against mine grinning down at me,”yes, yes we are, my love.” and I know all my fear and worry was for naught.

[fan-fantasies]

Whisper Sweet Nothings

A/N: this one won the vote so here ya go! Probably not quite what everyone imagined 😂

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader

Warnings: teasing, oral (f receiving), choking, good old game of strip wrestling, mentions of using a strap

Part Two

“You ready, darling?” Rhea asked, fixing up the details of her gear.

You were the newest member of Judgement Day and it was your first live appearance with them. You were nervous but you trusted all of them to take care of you.

“I’m ready,” you nodded, taking a deep breath.

While you were new to JD, you were not new in the WWE universe, and you were no stranger to Rhea. You weren’t best friends, but you had a playful backstage relationship and you were excited to get to work with her. Plus, it didn’t hurt she was pretty easy on the eyes.

“And her opponent, accompanied by the members of The Judgement Day… (your ring name)!”

You all stepped out onto the ramp and people booed. You put on your best sinister smile as you stared down your opponent in the ring.

Rhea leaned down to whisper in your ear like she does with Dom.

“You’ve got this, pretty girl. Easy win,” she said. You tried not to let the fact she called you pretty get to your head but it did give you an extra boost of confidence that allowed you the edge to win your match.

The crowd seemed to accept you as the newest member and you were glad. They especially loved your connection with Rhea. They loved when she was flirtatious and she loved to direct that energy toward you. You did your best to give it back, but you hated to admit that she made you flustered.

Summer Slam was just around the corner and you all decided to train a bit harder than usual. Rhea insisted on training with you so you could both learn from one another. It was more distracting than helpful, having her hands on your body so often.

“You okay, babe? You seemed distracted today,” she commented after your workout.

“Oh yeah, I’m good. Just haven’t been sleeping well is all,” you lied.

“I must not be working you hard enough then; let me know if you ever need me to come over and tire you out,” she said with a wink. Your eyes widened as the implication of her words sunk in. She walked away with a smirk on her face, leaving you speechless.

Her teasing continued in the days leading to the pay-per-view. You were tense, wanting an outlet for your frustration.

“We’re up next, let’s go!” Damian yelled, waiting to go on the ramp. You hurried to his side with Rhea hot on your heels.

“Calm down, we’re ready,” she scoffed, throwing an arm around you.

“If you two weren’t busy making out, we wouldn’t almost be late,” Finn said jokingly.

“We were not,” you retorted. He just rolled his eyes as your theme music came on.

You did your entrance as usual, Rhea coming up behind you and leaning down. You were expecting her usual simple comments but you were taken by surprise.

“Trust me, if we had been making out, we wouldn’t be out here right now. I’d still be between your legs making you scream my name,” she whispered. You had to use every ounce of self control to keep from reacting, your normal sadistic smirk struggling to stay on your face.

Your mind was spinning so fast you almost missed your line. You had to focus extra hard just to finish the segment.

Rhea kept an arm around you the entire time and held you tight against her. Every time you dared to look at her you found she was already looking at you. Her piercing blue eyes sent chills down your spine.

A match was announced for Summer Slam for the women’s tag team championship with you and Rhea competing. Once the bit had ended you rushed backstage to collect your thoughts.

She was just joking with you, right? She hadn't really been thinking about doing…that…with you. Had she?

“Great segment, love. Training tomorrow at 9?” She asked, sneaking up behind you. You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of her voice.

“Y-yeah, that works,” you stuttered.

“You okay, babe? You seem tense,” she said, putting her hands on your shoulders. She began to massage them gently but it didn’t help your nerves.

“Never better; I’ll see you tomorrow!” You said, hurrying away.

You didn’t sleep well that night, worried about training with Rhea. You tried not to let your feelings come to the surface, but she was making it difficult with her lingering touches and tempting whispers.

The following morning you had an extra cup of coffee and made your way to the training area. It seemed as if you were the first one there, even beating Rhea.

You took the opportunity to stretch first, trying to loosen yourself up. You tried to get your mind into the right headspace and didn’t even notice the door opening and closing.

You jumped when you felt hands on your hips.

“Need some help warming up?” The accented voice asked from behind you.

“Jesus, Rhea! You gave me a heart attack!”

“Sorry, sweetheart; I did say hello when I walked in. Seems like your mind was somewhere else though,” she said with a hint of a smirk.

“Wonder why that is,” you mumbled, going back to your stretching.

She stood across from you and began stretching as well. You tried not to look at her but you couldn’t help it; she was way too gorgeous.

“I was thinking we could spar today,” she suggested, looking at you up and down.

“Sounds good to me,” you shrugged. You and Rhea had very different styles so it was beneficial to go up against one another.

The first couple rounds she took it easy on you and you could tell which only frustrated you more. You tried your best to get the upper hand but to no avail. Eventually, she pinned you, throwing your legs over her shoulders and grinding her hips into your ass as was her infamous pinning style.

“Are you even trying?” She asked, letting you up.

“Of course I’m trying!” You argued.

“How about we raise the stakes a bit, hm?”

“What did you have in mind?” You asked.

“For every pin, you take off a piece of clothing,” she answered. You must’ve misheard her.

“You can’t be serious; anyone could walk in!”

“I booked it just for us for the next hour. No one’s going to interrupt,” she replied. You thought it over for a minute- why the hell not? Worst case she gets some more material to tease you with.

“Fine, you’re on.”

“Really? I’m surprised you agreed,” she chuckled.

“Why’s that?”

“You always seem so uptight is all,” she said.

“I’m not uptight!” You shrieked. How dare she?

“Really? What is it then? Do I make you nervous?” She asked, stalking toward you. You swallowed hard and tried to stand tall.

“No, no you don’t,” you lied.

“Then let’s go.”

She looked at you like a predator looks at their prey before digging in. You squared up and you were determined to win. You fought harder than before, finding strength deep within. You wanted to prove yourself.

You finally got behind her and rolled her into a pin. It wasn’t the best but it did the trick.

“So do I get to pick what you take off?” You smirked. She rolled her eyes and took off her shirt leaving her in her sports bra. It was nothing new- sometimes she would workout in just that.

She quickly rushed at you, taking you off guard. She folded you in half, pinning your shoulders in under a minute.

“Don’t let yourself get distracted.”

You threw your shirt out of the ring and shook it off. If that’s how she wanted to play then so be it.

You pulled out all of your best moves but she was stronger and got the upper hand. She pinned you again and pointed to your leggings.

“Need any help getting them off?” She said with a smirk.

“I’m fine, thanks,” you mumbled angrily. You were left in your bra and underwear.

“That’s fine; I’ll take the next ones off with my teeth.” Her words set your core on fire, but you couldn’t let her play mind games with you.

You faked her out so you could run to the opposite side and climb the ropes. You jumped off without thinking, your legs landing over her shoulders. Your goal was to take her down, but she caught you easily. She looked up at you from between your thighs and you knew you were in trouble.

“Rhea, no!” You shouted before she slammed you to the mat. Your body bounced once before she was pinning you down.

“Decisions, decisions,” she said, running a finger down the length of your body, snagging on your panties and snapping them back.

You couldn’t move; one- because you were still reeling from that slam and two- because you were nervous now.

“My socks!” You said, remembering they technically counted.

“You’re no fun,” she sighed. “Next one, these are mine.” She grabbed your ass before pulling on your panties.

“If you get that far,” you snapped. She started to reply but you attacked her. You threw out every move you knew and eventually had her on her back. You resorted to sitting on her chest and finally pinned her.

“Pants. Now.”

“Sheesh, you’re bossy when you want something,” she sighed. She took off her pants and threw them at you, taking the distraction to rush you. You dodged her attack, however, and were the one on the offensive.

After minutes of back and forth, you were starting to fall behind. You managed to trip her, not your finest moment, but it allowed you to set up your finisher.

You pinned her with a victorious smile on your face. She scowled at you but wasted no time in pulling off her bra. Your jaw dropped at the sight before you. You certainly didn’t think this through- how could you focus now??

The answer was: you couldn’t. Rhea grabbed you and easily picked you up. She threw you on the ropes and when you bounced off she clotheslined you. She didn’t even bother pinning you, she just yanked off your underwear.

“Hey-“ you were cut off by her lips on yours. The kiss feverish and long overdue. You surrendered to her without a challenge, letting her hands roam your body. You pawed at her underwear, hinting for her to take them off.

“Nah, not so fast. You haven’t earned that yet,” she chuckled. You started to pout and she wrapped a hand around your throat. “You think you deserve my pussy?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Poor baby,” she sighed. “Don’t worry, love. You’ll get it. I’ve just been dying to taste you and I can’t wait.”

Her hand left your throat and she wrapped them around your thighs, pulling them open. She sunk down between them and licked her lips.

“I can see how wet you are and I haven’t even done anything,” she chuckled. “Or do you just like it that much when I throw you around?”

You didn’t answer so she slapped your cunt.

“Answer me.”

“Yes! Yes, I like it when you throw me around,” you said.

“Thought so,” she said before turning back to your pussy. She licked a thick strip up your center before focusing her attack on your clit. She had your head spinning and she had barely even begun.

Her fingers were digging into your hips as she held you in place. She ate you like a woman starved. No one had ever made you feel like that before and it had you chasing your high within minutes.

She circled your clit with her tongue before dipping it into you and fucking you with it. You started to grind your face against her and she moaned. She went back to sucking on your clit and it was enough to send you over the edge.

Her name spilled from your lips effortlessly, praising her over and over again. She slowed down, licking through your folds one more time before pulling away.

“Fuck, I wish I had my strap with me. I’d fucking destroy you,” she chuckled, watching you come undone before her. “Maybe that’ll be your reward if we win on Saturday. How does that sound?”

She crawled back up your body and kissed you. She bit down on your lip making you whimper.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes, that sounds good. Please,” you begged.

“Such a good girl for Mami,” she smiled sweetly. She sat up and pulled her underwear off. “I think you’ve earned this now.”

She sat back and you eagerly laid down in front of her. You got comfortable before teasing your tongue through her folds. You were gentle, barely even touching her. You knew it would piss her off, and you were right.

“We’re not gonna play this game, love,” she growled before fisting a hand in your hair. She pulled you flush with her pussy and began to fuck herself against your face. You lapped at her pussy greedily and you had her a moaning mess almost instantly.

She slowed down and let you take the lead but didn’t loosen her grip on your hair.

You toyed with her clit before dipping into her entrance.

“Fuck, love. You’re doing such a good job,” she moaned. “You like when Mami fucks herself on your tongue?”

“Fuck, yes,” you answered eagerly.

She began to move her hips again in rhythm with your movements. She threw her head back and let herself get lost in the moment. Before you knew it, she was cumming on your tongue. You let her fuck your face as long as she needed to ride out your high. Plus, your name on her lips sounded too good to stop.

When she finally released you, you quickly crawled into her lap and pulled her in for a kiss. The taste of the both of you danced on your tongues. You were grinding on her lap and it made her laugh.

“Such a desperate little thing,” she teased. “I think our time is almost up, how about we take this back to my room?”

You simply nodded before throwing your clothes back on as quickly as possible. Rhea led you back to her room where she proved just how much you loved her throwing you around.

Saturday night came along rather quick, the crowd booing as your entrance played. You stood at the top of the ramp next to Rhea as she leaned down per usual.

“Just remember what your reward is if we win.”

——————

Please comment and reblog!

[rivatar]

Hi!! Could you do a Lo’ak x reader smut where he gets back from being attacked by akula, and she’s treating his wounds and just fussing over him and how worried she was, and he fucks her to get her mind off it and ‘forgive’ him?

A/N: Hi anon!!! This idea had me FOAMING AT THE MOUTHHHHHH🤭🤭 I hope you like it! Keep sending me requests yall!!

How’s that arm?

MDNI!!🛑

Pairing: Aged Up Loak x Adult Metkayina Reader

W/c: 2.4k

Warnings: SMUT, cussing, dom Loak & dom reader lol, injuries, multiple orgasms, p in v, dirty talk, in public kinda

Summary: what the request says lol

Translations: pxazang- akula(reef predator), yawne- beloved, sevin- pretty

You were pacing around on the sand, you and the others were anxiously waiting for the men to get back from their hunt beyond the reef today. They had left at sunrise and it was now almost time for dinner so they had been gone for way too long for comfort.

There was one in particular you were most worried about, your mate, Lo’ak. You haven’t even been mated for a full year yet so you we’re still learning and accepting that he was reckless and this often left you worrying for him. You scolded him in your mind for not being back yet, although you know it’s a joint effort and he must follow orders.

Neytiri approached you and put a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Be patient, my child. Eywa will return them back safely and in one piece.” Her words were calming but your nerves still jittered around and you felt a little queasy.

But then you heard the horn announcing their arrival. They’ve returned! Thank Eywa.

You ran to the area they were closing in on for their skimwings to come to shore. Searching for your mate, your eyes zoned in on the silhouette of two warriors on one skimming. That was strange, you mentally noted.

And as they got closer to where you could tell them apart you see that it’s… Neteyam and Lo’ak?!?

Neteyam is in front and holding Lo’ak’s arm around his shoulder as Lo’ak slumps on him for support. His arm is bleeding badly and there’s a few more cuts on his chest and face.

Just as quick as you had felt relieved to even see them return, it quickly turned back into worry. Your stomach was upside down.

“Come! He was attacked by a pxazang!” He rides up to the shallowest water he can and hauls both of them off the skimming.

You run over along with Neytiri to inspect him. He’s stopped bleeding but has lost a good bit of blood. The upper arm wound is nasty and needs to be cleaned off asap.

“Lo’ak! What were you thinking??” You scold as you and Neytiri help him off of Neteyam. “Awh yawne. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

“The skxawng strayed too far off from the boundaries we set so technically it is his fault. He was knocked off his skimwing and I heard his yelling just in time to get him away from the predator.” Neteyam explains.

“Wow bro, thanks a lot for ratting me out” Lo’ak scoffs.

You just roll your eyes because of course Lo’ak would push the limits and put himself in danger. Of course.

“Thank you, Neteyam”. He nods in acknowledgement and walks away with the other warriors.

You and Neytiri help Lo’ak go to the healer’s mauri. He was limping a little but gaining some of his composure.

…

Back at the mauri, Lo’ak sits on the floor and leans up against the wall. You knew Ronal is busy helping deliver a baby right now, but lucky for Lo’ak, you have helped treat wounds with the Tsahik many times and are confident enough to treat all of his injuries.

“I’m sorry y/n, I have to go check on ma Jake and make sure he’s okay. He’s getting too old for these things” Neytiri sighs. “Will you be able to help him?” She side eyes Lo’ak partly in annoyance because this whole thing could’ve been avoided if he would just follow the rules.

“Yes, I’ve got it from here. Thank you Neytiri.” You bid her farewell as she exits the mauri.

You slowly turn back around to face the absolute dumbass that nearly killed himself. You were feeling so many emotions. Partly glad and relieved that he even returned and survived the attack but also frustrated with his actions and worried about the gaping wound in his arms where the pxazangs’ tooth got him.

“Lo’ak! I could pluck your eyeballs out! You realize you could’ve died right??”

“Easyyy baby” he cooed. “At least I made it back, right?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. You were rummaging through the bandages and medicines, getting all the supplies you’d need. You huffed and puffed, setting the supplies down at a force so hard it made it clear you were very upset.

“It’s gonna take a while for this wound to close up and we have to make sure it doesn’t get infected in the mean time.” You were clearly on edge and driving yourself crazy over this.

As you treated it with what you had available, Lo’ak hissed at the burn.

“We wouldn’t have to be doing this if you weren’t such an idiot” you spat out the last word.

Despite the pain, he couldn’t help but give you a boyish grin. You cared about him so much and it had you all worked up. He thought it was cute. It also made him horny. The way you were taking charge and being motherly made him want to put a baby in you.

You finished up with his other little nicks and scrapes and began wrapping his arm up with clean cloth. Changing out this bandage everyday was gonna be annoying and also making sure the wound stayed sterile and clean. You then made a makeshift arm sling so he wouldn’t be as sore.

“There you go. All done.” You huffed as you were still crouched over his sitting form. Right as you were about to stand up he grabbed your arm and pulled you to him. You lost your balance and fell on your knees right between his legs that were extended out.

“Hey mama, let me make it up to you, yeah?” he eyed your body in suggestion.

You quickly caught on to his dirty proposal. “Are you insane? You’re hurt and need to eat dinner and rest!”

“Ahh all that can wait, I need you first. Your pussy would heal me” he licked his lips.

He tugged you harder as you tried to stand up because you thought it was a bad idea. He grabbed your other hand and placed it on his bulge.

“You see what you do to me, huh? Let me make you feel good and ease your worries” he spoke lowly.

Curse him. He had a way of getting to you, it was evident in the now growing pool of arousal in your loincloth.

“Lo’ak we can’t, you have to be careful with your arm or it’ll make it worse.”

“You want me to beg for it? Is that what you want? I’ll beg for it, yawne” he looked up at you with lustful eyes.

He let go of you and you rose to stand up. He shifted himself to get on his knees in front of you. He held your hand and kissed it.

“Please, y/n.” He took your finger into his mouth to suck on it.

You couldn’t take the torture any longer. You wanted him just as bad.

“Okay fine! But we can’t do it here in the healer’s tent!”

“Says who?” Lo’ak asks while standing up to tower above you. “Everybody’s gathered to eat dinner right now, no one will find us” he grins and his fangs flash.

He was filthy. You can tell he liked the sick thrill of possibly getting caught in public. But what was worse is you kinda did too in this moment…

You finally smirked which was his sign of your approval. Before you could realize what was happening, he scooped your whole body up with his one arm that wasn’t hurt, cupping your pussy in his hand. He felt the wet spot that seeped through your loincloth.

“Damn sevin, so wet already? You’re just as nasty as I am and you know it” he taunted. You can’t help but blush at the accusation.

He placed you on the table and stood between your legs as he started making out with you. The kiss was passionate and rough, and you had to admit that seeing him all beat up and bruised kinda (really) turned you on.

He pulled away from your lips and a string of saliva connected you two. He watched you to see how you’d react and you turned a darker purple at this. He just grinned and let the saliva fall on his chin, making a mess already.

“Take this off for me” he tugged on your top. It would’ve taken him a minute to untie it with just one hand and he was already losing patience.

You carefully untied the back and let it slip down. He threw it to the side and growled at the sight before him, his pupils dilated and tail thrashing about in excitement.

He wasted no time to take one nipple into his mouth. You threw your head back at the sudden sensation and bit your lip trying not to sound too desperate.

“Let me hear you, my girl” he said in between switching to the other nipple.

“Lo’ak!!” You were squirming, needing more.

“Hmm?” He gleefully hummed.

“More!! Need more!” You pushed his head away and grabbed a hand full of his braids to bring him lower to your most needy spot. He just smirked and understood your message, lowering himself to his knees.

“Patience, yawne. I’m gonna get you” he was teasing you and only rubbed your nub through your loincloth that was damp.

You whined because you wanted his cock deep inside you already.

He then laid his face on your pussy with your cloth still there as a barrier and breathed in your scent. “Mmm my favorite smell in all of Pandora” he said while then rubbing his nose all around your heat. He grabbed the top of your cloth in his mouth and tugged it down while looking in your eyes. Your face was scrunched up in desperation. You untied the back of your cloth to help the man out and he rose up with your clothing piece in his mouth, looking like a proud animal with his finest catch.

He let the piece fall to the ground and stared in awe at your bare pussy, licking his lips and practically drooling at you on display for him. He could only manage to breathe out a “Fuck.”

“Can’t wait any longer, please Lo’ak!!” He loved teasing you but he realized it was time to stop teasing. He got his own cloth off impressively quick with his one hand. His length flew up to smack his stomach, he was rock hard.

He lined himself up with your aching hole and easily slipped in due to your arousal. Both your heads flew back and whiny moans escaped your lips as he went deeper, filling you up just right.

“Fucking hell, y/n. Taking it so well, good job baby” he praised.

Tears were already welling up in your eyes at the unbelievable pleasure. It never got old.

He started an even pace, making sure his tip kissed your cervix with every thrust. He was already losing his mind but he wanted it to last.

Your juices already covered his lower stomach and hips, splashing and sticking with every movement. He wished he could fuck you like an animal with all his strength but his arm limited him.

“Gonna cum?” It was a rhetorical question, he knew you were about to by the way you were squeezing him and that fucked out look in your glazed eyes.

“Mhmm!! Gonna cum Lo’ak!!” you declared and his ears perked up to the sweet sound.

“Do it, pretty girl. Right on my cock” he panted, and that was all it took for you to explode on him.

“Mmmmm fuckkk!” you squirted on his stomach and he relished in the sight and feeling, as he continued pounding you to let you ride out the high. He was in awe.

Now you were very sensitive and his dick still moving in you somehow felt even better, and you didn’t think that was possible. You were biting your lip trying to hold back a delirious smile from your enjoyment. He just chuckled and let it boost his ego.

Glancing over at his arm in the sling, you suddenly got the notion to do the work for him since he was hurt and you didn’t want him straining himself trying to please you. So, you pushed back on his chest and his dick slipped out, causing him to complain.

“Heyyy!! You think we’re done? I’m still gonna get one more out of you, sweet thing”

You smiled in response. “Sit.” You demanded and his head slightly tilted in question. “Sit now!” Then he knew what was happening.

“Shittt, all you had to was ask”, he sat and sprawled his legs out, putting his one functioning arm behind his head.

You quickly went over and sat down on him, sinking down until your pelvises met.

He tried to caress your boob but you pinned that arm down beside of him and started bouncing ruthlessly. He was startled and his eyes grew wide. He knew by your current state that you were gonna milk him dry.

“F-fuck yawne, s-slow down” he tried talking sense into you but you were in demon mode now. He started this so you were gonna finish it.

“Time for you to take it, pretty boy” you say seductively.

His face was screwed up as he felt his incoming orgasm. You felt another one stirring in you as well.

“W-well I take it that you forgive me, huh?” He grunted, trying to restrain himself.

You nod your head frantically while devilishly smiling. You were gonna be the death of him.

“Y/n, I’m about to cum!” Lo’ak proclaimed.

“Fill me up, please” you begged him and it made him snap with an intense orgasm. You felt the sensation of his cum spurting into your womb and it made your coil snap as well.

You both rode out your climaxes on each other, taking one another for all you had. The moment was pure bliss.

You slumped down to lay on him. “Gonna put me to sleep, girl.” You giggled and kissed his nose affectionately.

“Oh yeah, how’s that arm?” You asked mid-yawn, remembering his injury and realizing he successfully distracted you from all your worries. You drifted away in his arms.

[siriuslynettey]

See Previous Chapter Here!

PLATINUM

[The Lost Pater]

New Friends and New Fears

[Chapter 2]

“Who’s going first?” A woman turned to her family and asked. None of them had the chance to answer before the tallest one sprinted towards the brick pillar into the train station. Her and the cart she pushed full of her belongings disappeared in the blink of an eye, entering Platform 9 ¾ .

Ophelia and Remus approached closer to the platform entrance, other families stood next to them, saying their goodbyes. Ophelia stared at the brick pillar while Remus stared at her, knowing his daughter was scared, but also knowing she wouldn’t admit it.

“Something that I learned when going to Hogwarts,” Remus leaned on Ophelia's luggage trolley, lowering to her height. “Is that magic, at first, is very scary, because it’s so foreign to us. Most people have enough common sense to know you’re not supposed to run into a brick wall. But Magic allows you to do it. But it’s still scary of course, the first time you do it”

Ophelia kept taking deep breaths, his soft words, that he was always able to beautifully string together, calmed her down.

“The first time you enter this platform, the first class you take, every new spell you cast, is terrifying, but once you do it, it’s so much fun.” Ophelia turned to look at her father, who was already giving her a reassuring smile. “You are going to have the time of your life, it’s going to be so much fun, Ophelia. It just so happens that the first thing you need to do is run right into that brick pillar…but I know you can do it.” Ophelia took a deep breath and nodded.

“Can we do it together?” She asked, to which Remus immediately agreed. His daughter had just started getting to the age where she barely asked for her dad’s help. Although he respected her boundaries, he never minded when his support was needed.

So the two sprinted towards the platform entrance, luggage trolleys in hand. Ophelia tightly closed her eyes right before, reaching the brick pillar. She barely felt a thing before she opened her eyes and saw the new world around her.

“See? That was easy, right?” Ophelia nodded quickly, now a big smile on her face. “Okay, we’re running a little late, so we should find some seats quickly.”

The two entered the train and started weaving through the people, searching for an empty compartment. After not finding one, Ophelia stopped in front of a room with one girl, sitting alone.

“Uhm, dad…” Ophelia avoided eye contact with Remus, he immediately picked up that she wanted to sit with other kids by herself.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make my way to the professor's car, I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.” He chuckled.

“It’s not that you’d embarrass me…” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m just not sure if other kids want my dad sitting with them.”

“I understand, be good, I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Once Remus left, Ophelia knocked on the side of the doorway of the compartment with the girl who sat alone. She looked up with a smile on her face.

“Er, do you mind if I sit here?...I understand if you don’t want me to.” Because this was her first Hogwarts express ride, she wasn’t sure if it would be frowned upon by other kids to ask to sit in “their” compartment.

“Oh, yeah! For sure!” The girl excitedly replied. Ophelia felt her tense shoulders relax, and put her carry on in the overhead storage, and sat Salem in his cat carrier right next to her.

“Ooo, what’s your cat's name?’’ The girl excitedly asked.

“His name’s Salem, I just got him a month ago.” Ophelia slumped over to look at Salem, who had calmed down since the car ride.

“Lucky, my parents said I had to wait until my third year to get a pet.” Ophelia looked out the train window, watching the crowd of families become smaller. “My name’s Jas, by the way, well, Jasmine…but I prefer Jas.”

“I’m Ophelia. Are you a first year too?”

“Yeah, but I have two older brothers so I-” The two girls were interrupted by a boy yelling outside their compartment. They gave each other confused looks before standing up to look outside the door.

“So let me get this straight, you had the opportunity to take a cat or an owl, and you chose a rat?” A boy with a large group behind him hovered over another boy who was leaning up against the wall with a rat in his hand. Although Ophelia didn’t care for rats, and definitely wouldn’t ever have one as a pet, she felt bad for the boy…and his rat.

“Hey, don’t talk to him like that.” Ophelia abruptly yelled at the group. Everyone turned their heads to look at her. The boy and the girl who were the two main patronizers, both stepped toward her.

The girl's eyes wandered to Ophelia’s hair. She snickered at the sight of her platinum white hair, something Ophelia had been insecure with since she could remember. It wasn’t uncommon for strangers' eyes to go straight to the top of her head, then her eyebrows, then her eyelashes, that all dawned the same white strands, it also wasn’t uncommon for people to mention it, and she figured this group wasn’t the type to bite their tongue.

“That’s a lot of talk from someone who chooses to dye their hair...and eyebrows....and eyelashes, such an awful colour.” The girl smirked at her uncreative insult.

“Her’s is all natural, unlike whatever incoherent, unkempt mess you have going on.” Jas snapped back, referring to the girl's inharmonious array of colours in her hair.

“Be careful of who you make your enemies, you wouldn’t want to start the year off wrong.” The boy stepped forward himself, slightly towering over Ophelia and Jas.

Jas stepped forward, inserting herself between the boy and Ophelia. "Oh please, save your threats for someone who actually takes you seriously. I’d be more concerned about your fashion sense...they don’t allow entrance into Slytherin, which you so desperately seem to want, based on the way you dress.” She looked the group up and down, referring to their purposely tattered black coloured clothing. "You should focus on being less of a cliché and more of your own person.”

The boy clenched his jaw and looked back at his group. “C’mon, let’s go. These freaks aren't worth our time.” Jas outwardly laughed at his weak response, which made their sour faces turn even more scrunched, while Ophelia chose to hide her smile.

Jas and Ophelia watched them mope away, then both turned their heads to the boy with the rat, whose head still layed low.

“I think rats are cool by the way,” Jas spoke up. “At least it’s not a toad.” The boy looked up and smiled.

“Do you want to sit with us? I think the train is about to start moving. And we have room for another.” The boy happily agreed, and they all walked into the compartment, closing the door behind them.

“Your hair colour is natural, right?” Jas asked Ophelia, hoping her comeback was accurate.

Ophelia laughed and confirmed that her hair colour was, in fact, real.

“I’m Gallagher by the way.” The boy sat next to Jas and introduced himself. Salam, starting hissing loudly from the crate Ophelia held him in.

“Salem, calm down.” Ophelia turned the opening of the crate towards her face to quiet the cat down. “Sorry, maybe he’s just a little nervous to be on the train.”

They spent the majority of the train ride getting to know each other. Ophelia started, explaining to them how it was just her and her dad living in a quiet suburb right outside of Cardiff, which they had just moved to recently after living in England her whole life, and how her dad was going to be a professor.

“No way!”

“Is he teaching first year?” They both inquired

“Yeah, he’s the new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher, so we’ll all have him.” Ophelia answered.

“That’s cool…” Jas voice tattered off before continuing. “Is he cool…or..I mean…is he the type to give a lot of homework?” This made Ophelia giggle, which assured Jas her question wasn’t too rude.

“I’m not sure, this is his first time teaching ever…he didn’t even tell me he got the job until a month ago.” Ophelia shrugged. “But he’s a good dad so, I can’t see him being horrible.”

Jas had told them how she and her family lived in London, and that her parents were not wizards, but both her and her brothers were.

Gallagher explained that he was an only child and his parents lived in Hogsmeade, and went into depth about how his parents were quite upset that he had to ride the train to a school he lived a 15 minute walk from.

It was a very foggy, glum day, so Ophelia found herself almost drifting to sleep a lot.

“Look, you can see the dementors.” Jas pointed toward the window.

Large, shadowy figures flew through the air around the train, the windows frosting everytime they got too close.

“Is that normal? Why are they here?” Ophelia asked, continuing to watch the scary figures fly by.

“You didn’t see? A prisoner from Azkaban escaped, there are posters all over Kings Cross. Apparently he was the first to do it” Gallagher answered her questions while eating treats from the trolley. He noticed the terrified look that remained on her face, despite his casualness to the situation. “It’s nothing to worry about, they’ll catch him eventually.” He reassured her.

“It’s just..they look so..terrifying.” Ophelia commented.

“That’s why no one else has escaped Azkaban, they suck all the happiness out of you, it takes away the prisoners' motivation so they don’t even want to escape.”

“Who was it? What did he do?” Ophelia asked, her eyes still glued to the window.

“Sirius Black…the posters are all over Hogsmeade. I can’t remember what he did, but it had to have been bad to be sent to Azkaban for life without even having a trial.” Gallagher explained.

“If I were him I would go off the grid completely, live my best life in the middle of nowhere.” Jas added, consuming her own treats as she watched the window like it was a film.

“Unless he has unfinished business.” Gallagher shrugged. Both girls turned in his direction, both slightly chuckling while also being taken aback by his words. “Just saying…especially if he had been working with Vo-” He stopped himself, and looked a bit embarrassed. “You Know Who.”

“You Know Who is gone…he was defeated in the war.” Ophelia argued. Remus had explained very little to her about the war, despite her curiosity. But each time, he assured her that “He” was gone.

“Defeated, not dead. They make a point to not say dead, just in case he comes back, some sort of liability thing…at least that’s what my parents say.” Gallagher commented.

“How do you know so much about it?” Jas asked.

“My parents are doomsdayers, people who believe another wizarding war will break out any second. Sometimes I think they are hoping for another war, just to prove to themselves that they're ready.”

“They sound like fun…” Ophelia remarked, making the other two laugh.

The train came to a sudden stop, jolting the children's bodies in their seats. Ophelia grabbed hold of Salem's carrier and Gallgher tightened his grip on his rat. All three of the kids got close to the window, fear settling in them.

“Why have we stopped?” Ophelia whispered, wanting to keep quiet, but not knowing why. No one replied, because of their own fear, but also because they hadn’t had an answer.

The windows turned cold and froze over, the air became more dense and a breath of fog flew in the air with every breath. Every compartment door flew open, and screams could be heard throughout the train.

“Please remain in your seats. Please remain in your seats.” An intercom voice beckoned over the train speakers. “There is an undocumented passenger on the train, please remain in your seats.”

Everyone froze, feeling sick to their stomachs. Ophelia felt numb and unable to even blink, but she kept her eyes on the door of the compartment. Although she didn’t know what he looked like, she imagined Sirius Black bursting through the door with a knife in hand, screaming at the top of his lungs, like a cheesy horror movie.

While the image replayed in her head, a figure jumped into the compartment opening, causing Ophelia, Jas, and Gallagher to scream at the top of their lungs.

“Dad!” Ophelia yelled, after realising who it was. Remus rushed himself into the compartment, embracing his daughter who jumped into his arms. “What’s happening?”

Remus ignored her question and looked around the room. “Is it just you three? Has anyone else come in here?”

“No-no it’s just us.” Remus also ignored her reply and looked under the seats and in the overhead compartments.

A large, ghostly looking hand grasped the door frame behind him. Ophelia watched the hand with wide eyes, but her mouth refused to speak any words. Remus looked at his daughter's terrified expression and followed her line of vision to the door. Jas and Gllagher ran to the other side of the room where Ophelia sat behind Remus.

The hand was now a dementor standing in front of them. Remus sat down with the children, placing his left arm behind him to cover them and the pets they clutched onto.

“He’s not here.” Remus firmly stated. The dementor creepily turned its head toward Remus, before taking a last glance at the room and exiting, closing the door behind it.

Everyone let out the breath they had been holding, Jas and Gallagher went back to their respective seats. Ophelia's blank stare stayed on the door.

“Phie,” Remus turned towards her, trying to break her out of her lifeless trance. “It’s alright.”

“Is he here? On the train? Sirius Black?” She asked, just above a whisper, tears welling out of fear. Remus gave a similar blank stare to his daughter, his stomach dropping hearing her say his name.

“m-N-No. I don’t know. If he is, they'll find him.”

See Next Chapter Here!

[axiomsend]

don't stop trying to find me here amidst the chaos

❀ Premise: You get injured on the job and Kaz loses his mind about it. When you are on the mend, both of you learn what it means to start on a journey towards healing ❀ Word Count: 2,338 ❀ Content Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Gore, Blood, & Violence, Kaz beats someone to death with his gloved hands, Infection of A Wound, Hurt/Comfort

It was supposed to be an easy job. Break in, forge some documents, destroy some others, and you're done. It was a trap, but everyone knew that going into it.

Still, you weren’t expecting this much effort to go into killing the crows. You’ve been trying to stay out of the line of fire, aiding the various crows when they call out for help. You’re on your way to helping Inej heal a minor wound when it happens.

You feel the knife before you see it. Of course, target the healer you think to yourself, trying to wrestle your attacker off you before they're able to rip the knife back out of your body. You fail, like you thought you would. A bullet whizzes past your head, hitting your attacker in the head, and killing them instantly.

"You're bleeding?" Jesper yells, as if he's never seen you injured before.

"That tends to happen when you get stabbed!" You yell back.

Another bullet flies past you.

You place your hand over your wound, trying to heal yourself enough to remain useful. Instead, your hand pulls away from your hip covered in blood.

"I need to leave." You say, flashing your bloody hand.

"Y/N! This way, quickly!" Nina yells from behind Jesper.

You stumble forward, trying to keep yourself from falling over. The pain isn't too much, but the blood loss… somebody has to stop the blood loss.

"I've got you," Kaz says, appearing on the side opposite the wound, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Thanks, Kaz" You state.

"There's a safe house nearby," He reassures.

"I know. I've healed you there many times before." You reply.

You make it out of the building, but not before losing at least three pints of blood. You’ve got a headache, and your dizzy, and you’ll probably pass out in a very short amount of time.

“Where did Nina go?” You ask, starting to slow down a little.

“Making sure the safehouse is still safe.” He says.

“Oh. How’d she get that far ahead of us?” You question.

“She’s not bleeding out,” Kaz states.

“Sorry for bleeding out on you,” You say, words starting to slur. You aren’t sure how you’re still walking. “I’ll keep my blood in my body next time.”

“We’re almost there,” Kaz replies, barely managing to stay upright himself, as most of your weight leans against him.

“Quickly!” Nina shouts, urging the both of you into the safe house.

“I think I need to lie down.” You say, slowly collapsing to the floor. Blissful unconsciousness greets you shortly after.

“Brekker, help me get her to the table,” Nina commands.

Kaz is no longer consciously aware of what’s happening around him. He’s able to follow most of Nina’s directions, but he’s not physically there. He’s retreated into his mind, where the emotions begin to fester.

The inside of Kaz’s mind is a series of mazes, locked doors, dead ends, and brick walls. They are defenses he built for himself, to protect him whenever something terrible happened. The more trauma he endured, the more complicated it became for him to express his emotions. And then, one day, the only emotions that he would allow to emerge from his skull were anger and rage.

He looms over your unconscious body, eyes sharp as knives, covered in your blood. If he ever finds the man who did this…

“BREKKER!” Nina shouts, snapping him out of his disassociation. She’s kneeling by your unconscious body, trying her best to seal your wound while being flooded with Kaz’s emotions. “You aren’t helping.” She runs her hand through her hair, frantic. “If you don’t calm down I’m going to have to kick you out of this room. Do you understand?” Your wound is beginning to unseal itself as she loses concentration.

Kaz swallows his emotions, pushing them back into the pit they had suddenly erupted from. “Yes,”

“Good. Now let me focus,” Returning to your wound, she’s able more or less seal it- at least enough that the bleeding stops completely.

Were he a different man, he may have kept vigil over you for the days that followed. Watched over your unconscious body, thinking of all the things he wanted to say to you when you woke up. To apologize for having fell for an obvious trap. Were he another man, he may have dabbed at your head with a cool towel, trying to quell the fever that arose. Held your hand. Prayed for your return. But Kaz was not another man.

He was the Bastard of the Barrel. Dirty Hands. And he was going to kill every single person who had anything to do with that cursed job. At least, he would have, had the other Crows not been there to ground him in reality.

Kaz leaves the safe house, heading straight back into the fight. To be honest, he’s not in much better shape than you, but the adrenaline keeps him upright and the rage keeps him deadly. A bullet lands in a pillar beside him, but he ignores it.

Inej approaches him while he is still beating up the man’s corpse. Everyone who tried to kill them is dead.

He feels a fist land on his back and turns around to meet its owner. And then the rage takes over. Have you ever wondered how many times you have to hit someone before they're dead?

Kaz knows the answer, but he passed that number a very long time ago.

“Kaz,” She says, quietly. She places a hand on his shoulder, but he continues.

“I think he’s dead,” Jesper deadpans.

Slowly, the punches start to slow down, until he finally stops. He stands up, shakily, absolutely covered in blood from head to toe. He is still too angry to notice that he’d been crying. Jesper and Inej notice, but say nothing.

“Let’s go,” Inej says, handing Kaz his cane.

Nina is sitting with a cup of tea when they arrive back at the safe house, staring deeply into the cup.

“How is she?” Jesper asks.

“She’ll live, most likely,” Nina replies, glancing towards the group. Her eyes narrow as she sees Kaz covered in more blood than he left with. “It’ll be a while before she recovers.”

“We should plan our next move,” Kaz states, though he really means he should plan their next move. Which is revenge, of course.

“It should start with changing your clothes.” Nina retorts.

Kaz gives Nina a look.

“Don’t you look at me like that when I just saved the person you love,” Nina hisses, letting go of her cup of tea and slapping her hands against the table. It rattles, splashing some of the tea. “You know she wouldn’t want to see you like this,” She mutters, returning to her tea.

“I think washing up’s a good idea. Anybody disagree?” Jesper asks the room of severally traumatized people trying desperately to not let their emotions take over.

He does not get a response. Instead, the crows each find themselves going separate ways within the house, giving each other time to process what has just occurred.

XXXXX

“Kaz?” You ask, barely making out his figure in the dark room.

“I’ll go get Nina-” He says, standing up.

“No- stay. Please.” You plead.

He sits back down in the chair at the far end of the room.

“Come closer,” You beckon.

He moves to the chair beside your bed- the one the others had been taking turns using. The one Jesper sat in, recounting his day, pretending like you were awake. The one Nina sat in while she re-examined her work, taking the bandages on and off a wound that shouldn’t still be leaking. The one Inej sat in, drip-feeding you water so you didn’t dehydrate while you slept. Each of them had their own little task, their thing they did to make them feel like they were helping you heal.

Kaz just stared at you from afar, terrified. He knows what dead people look like- what they feel like- and for a while, you didn’t look much better than them. Tonight is the first time he’s ever sat in this chair. The first time he’s felt safe enough to do so since you got stabbed.

“Can you check the wound?” You ask. “I’m not strong enough to take off the bandages…”

“Are you sure you don’t want Nina?” He replies, already slowly peeling the covers off your body.

“So she can make it worse? No. I don’t need Nina for this.” You respond.

Hearing you quip again makes him feel better. The fact he has to touch your skin to take the bandages off, however, is a different kind of battle. The gloves are there as protection, as they always are, but he worries they aren’t enough.

“Kaz” You breathe.

“Y/N?”

“Deep breaths. In for five, hold for three, out for five.” You coach.

He nods. In for five, hold for three, out for five.

The first layer of bandage is off, still a pristine white.

In for five, hold for three, out for five.

A light pink and yellow mixture lightly coats this layer.

In for five, hold for three, out-

“Kaz? What is it?” You ask.

He could vomit- he might, even. This last layer of bandages is almost soaked, with a yellowish outline surrounding a red center.

“I knew I had an infection,” You say with a weak sigh.

He looks away as he peels this last layer off, trying to pretend he didn’t see it at all. Your skin is raw, irritated, and angry. It hasn’t gotten enough air.

“Is there puss?” You ask.

“Yes,” Kaz replies, trying to look anywhere but at the wound.

“Of course. Go get Inej. We’re going to need someone with a strong stomach.”

He nods and gets up to leave.

“And do me a favor- wash your gloves. There should be another pair in the cupboard.” You call after him.

As he comes out of the room, the rest of the crows are waiting.

“She’s awake,” Kaz states, holding the bandages in his hands.

“What did she say?” Jesper asks.

“She needs someone with a strong stomach.” He looks at Inej and cocks his head back toward the door.

“Infection,” Nina states, her lips quirking upward in disappointment.

“You did the best you could,” Jesper tries to reassure. “It was enough to keep her alive.”

“That remains to be seen,” Nina says.

Inej spends the next few minutes making trips in and out of your bedroom, carrying in clean bandages, carrying out bloody clothing, carrying in clean water, carrying out a bucket of- well. Finally, she exits the room for the final time, carrying more used bandages.

“How is she?” Kaz asks.

“Better. She was able to clean up the infection, but it will take her a few days before she gains enough strength to heal her wound completely.” Inej states.

“Did she say anything else?” Nina questions.

“I’m sure you’ll get an earful later, Zenik.” Jesper teases.

“She wanted to see Kaz,” Inej responds. “If you’ve changed your gloves.” She adds.

Kaz nods and enters the room after Inej leaves.

“Hi,” You say, sleepily. Cleaning up the infection took a lot out of you.

“Hi,” He mirrors, sitting in the chair next to your bed.

“Can you give me some water?” You ask.

He nods, bringing the glass up to your lips. You take slow, long sips, trying not to upset your stomach. When you stop taking sips, he pulls the glass away from your mouth.

“How long do you think you’ll need to recover?” He questions.

You laugh, and then you wince, because you really shouldn’t be laughing right now. “About a week. They missed my vital organs. Why do you ask?”

“I need to know how long my healer will be out of commission,” He responds like all you are to him is a means to an end. You would have believed that, once.

“You’ve been crying,” You point out. You don’t point out the new dark circles under his eyes, or how he looks paler than you’ve ever seen him.

“I’ve been sick,” He says, deflecting.

“I will be okay, Kaz. I promise,” You say, wanting to caress his hand. You aren’t strong enough to do it, and the gloves would prevent him from feeling your touch anyway. If he would even allow you to touch his gloved hand.

“Nothing like that will ever happen again,” He says, through gritted teeth.

“You can’t promise that. Not in this line of work.” You reply, searching for answers in his eyes.

“It won’t happen again.” He repeats, and you see the cracks starting to form. “I- I can’t let… I need.. I…you,” He stammers, trying not to cry.

“I’m alive. I’m here.” You say, “Touch me. I’m here,”

Kaz’s breath is shaky as he reaches for your exposed arm. He traces up and down your arm with a gloved finger in slow, repetitive motions.

“That’s it. Now breathe,” You instruct.

His breath slowly begins to stabilize as he breathes in while his finger moves down your arm and out while it moves up. Eventually, he’s calm again, and he works up the courage to lay his hand on top of yours.

“I will heal,” You state. “So- so will you. It’s not going to be easy, and it’s going to take a long time, but… we’ll heal.”

You don’t expect he’ll ever be able to touch someone without that protective barrier- that’s more a part of him now than it is something that needs to be fixed.

“You should rest,” You tell him.

“So should you,” He retorts.

“If you aren’t going to leave, at least take a blanket,” You state, wanting to hit him with a pillow.

It doesn’t take long for both of you to fall asleep. You, safe in your warm bed, healing from a wound that you just received. Him, asleep in a chair, just starting to heal from a childhood full of trauma.

[artssslut2]

Unexpected: Part Seven

Art Donaldson x Pregnant!Reader

Smut, Fluff, Angst

Being on tour with Art was great… for the most part. The only downside is now you were 25 weeks pregnant. So far you have gotten to see two different countries which has been amazing, the plane rides were rough, you never liked flying but now it was worse. The doctors said you have to get up and walk the isles every hour, and on top of that you had to get up and pee like every five seconds. You were having a lot of anxiety latley, all you wanted to do was get a nursery together and buy clothes and organize them , but it was rough when you didn’t have a house to do that in. You had a bad habit of keeping things in so Art really didn’t know. On the bright side you finally felt the baby kick. Art however did not, she would move all day but whenever Art was around she didn’t move. He was getting really nervous that she wouldn’t like him or that she was scared of him.

“She’s probably just sleeping, baby’s need sleep too you know.”

“Well she sleeps too much.” He pouted

Surprisingly you love learning about physiotherapy, and you loved working with your best friend.

You and Art got home from one of his matches after a very long day.

“I’m gonna shower, you want to join me?” He asked walking though the hotel door into your suite.

“My feet hurt so bad I just want to sit down” you said dramatically collapsing onto the couch. Art laughed and went into the bathroom. You pulled out your computer to work on the list you were making for the baby. You looked at all the stuff you still needed, then you wondered where the fuck you were going to put all of this stuff. Your head started to throb with worry.

“Hey babe what do you want for dinner? We could-“ you felt yourself snap

“Art Stop!” You said firmly. He looked surprised kind of like a kicked puppy, he was use to your mood swings at this point though. He knew it was best to not say anything. “We have nothing for the baby.” You said rubbing your temples

“What do you mean we have that swing that my aunt sent us.” He said calmly

“At home. We have that at home we aren’t home right now art. We won’t even be home when she’s born.”

“We are going home, around your due date remember? We’re taking a few weeks off before we start traveling again.” He tried to comfort you and sit next to you but it wasn’t working,

“That’s not enough Art. Where will she sleep or play? How are we gonna travel with a newborn? dont they need like stability or -“

“Hey hey hey. Y/n take a breath” he tried gently interrupted you. “We are going to figure all of this stuff out I promise. It might be a little crazy and chaotic at first but we will get used to it. We can have stuff shipped to the house and then when we get home we can figure out what we need and how to do everything. I promise we will be okay. And the baby will have us as her stability.” You smiled slightly, he could always calm you down.

“Okay but can we start ordering things now. Because I’m going crazy Art.” You said leaning closer to him.

“Of course my darling” he chuckled softly kissing your head. “Should we get dinner first?” He asked, on cue your mood totally changed you didn’t want to eat anything,

“Actually I think I want something else.” You smirked,

“Yeah like what?” He asked not catching onto what you were saying. You giggled putting a hand to his face and pulling him in, your other hand slid down him abs to his lap, he watched your hand carefully

“Yeah?” He asked growing hot, you just nodded and climbed onto his lap. Your belly was sizable now, it was pressed right up to arts toned abs as you kissed. It grew hotter and hotter, you pulled his shirt off of him. You aggressively made out with him rubbing your hands all over him while grinding on his rock hard dick. You grew very close to an orgasm.

“Fuck y/n” he moaned as he watched you get off from dry humping his cock. When you rode out your high Art reached down to free his aching cock as you pulled your dress up. Art frantically pushed your underwear to the side and effortlessly slid himself into you. You both let out a moan in sync. You immediately started bouncing on him hard and fast. He grabbed your ass so hard and rocked you back and fourth.

“Please Art fuck me harder I need you.” You begged. This drove Art crazy, he picked you up still on his cock and flipped you on the couch so you were on your back. He started pounding into you so hard you could feel all of him inside you. You moaned like you were in a porno and so did he

“You’re so needy aren’t you? Fuck I’m gonna miss the hormones.” He said while throwing his head back,

“Cum with me art please” you moaned trying to hold on, he lowered his chest to yours and came with a heavy moan, you followed throbbing around him. You both caught your breath as he was still inside of you. He pulled out and flopped on the couch, you chuckled at how red his cheeks were.

“Ok I’m ready for dinner now.” You smiled standing up adjusting your dress. Art looked at you and laughed tiredly.

You and Art had decided to go down to the hotel restaurant to grab some food. Once you had finished you went back upstairs to unwind for the night. You both crawled into bed and were looking at the list on your computer. You browsed various stores and websites online for baby things like cribs and towels and bottles. Looking at all the baby stuff made you so antsy to meet your little girl. You felt the urge to buy everything you saw. Art did too.

“We should get her stuff in yellow so it can match her name.” Art said slyly referencing his name idea that you had shot down many times.

“Ha ha” you responded sarcastically.

“What do you think we should name her then?” He asked laying back and stretching.

“I have no idea but-“ you gasped sharply and put a hand over your stomach. Art sat up quickly,

“What’s wrong, what happened?” He said panicking, you didn’t respond you moved your hand a little then smiled “what?!” He asked growing frantic

“It’s the baby, she’s kicking” you smiled looking at him, his face lit up mabye now he could finally feel his baby move. It looked like he was frozen. “Cmon give me you hand.” You laughed grabbing his hand, Art was quiet and focused like he was scared he would scare her away if he moved to fast. You placed his hand where she was moving then slid you hand lower to find her. You both waited for a second and then…

“Oh my gosh.” Art breathed out, a tear came into his eye and a smile spread on his face “that’s our baby?” He asked sweetly,

“That’s our baby.” You beamed with peer joy, you wiped a tear that fell from his eye. The baby started moving around after hearing you and Arts voices. “She likes your voice.” You told him. Art looks more in love than he had ever looked,

“I can’t believe we made a baby. Me and you y/n” you felt nothing but love in your chest you kissed your boyfriend and overlapped his hand with yours,

“You know she moved when I said the name Sunny” he smirked, you rolled your eyes “I think she likes it, do you like it Sunny girl?” He asked leaning to your belly, he placed a quick kiss on your bump then your lips. You laughed at your goofball of a boyfriend.

The rest of the night you ordered everything from a crib to onesies. Art even bought a baby tennis racquet of course. You both slept peacefully with arts hand never leaving your belly.

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 12)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven

“We have one month, that is all. After that, two of us are back in the arena and we need to be ready.”

This meeting of district twelve’s victors is called to session a bit earlier than Haymitch would like. Not that any of them have been sleeping anyway.

“So you want us to do what, exactly?” Haymitch cocks his head to the side.

“I think we need to train, all of us. Everyday.” Peeta says, pointedly.

Haymitch huffs a laugh.

Y/N squeezes her husband’s shoulder, “I don’t think it’s a bad idea.”

“You’re gonna start deadlifting until this kid comes flying out of you?” Haymitch rears back in perturbed amusement.

Y/N shakes her head. “There are things I can still do. Brush up on my skills, learn a new one.”

“I could teach her to shoot,” Katniss offers.

Y/N shrugs, “she could teach me to shoot.”

“And you could teach us how to throw knifes.”

“We’ve all won the games.” Peeta reminds Haymitch in particular. “We can all learn from each other.”

————————————————————————

A couple weeks later they sit down with the kids, unsure how to broach the topic of tonight’s discussion. But the whispers around town are loud, better they hear it from their parents than someone else.

“Do you remember when we talked about the Hunger Games?” Y/N begins.

Everest nods, they talk about it in school too. “If you win, you become a victor.”

“Right,” Y/N leans across the table a bit more.“This year is a Quarter Quell.”

“That means a special games, like Daddy’s.” Arista adds.

“This year…” Haymitch hesitates, “it means that only victors can go.”

“They can’t do that,” Everest interjects.

“But you’re victors.” Arista says, a look of realization dawning over her features.

“Let’s talk through this.” Haymitch attempts to calm his children. “I know you both have a lot of questions.”

“No, they can’t do that. It’s not fair!” Everest’s little hands ball into fists.

“Honey-”

“Are you gonna die?” He cries, angry, hot tears cascading over his cheeks. “Katniss? Peeta? What about our friends? Cashmere, Gloss, Finnick, Mags? Who’s gonna take care of us if you’re both-”

Arista’s breathing picks up and she abandons her seat, crawling into her mother’s lap, though there is not much room. “They can’t make you play with a baby in your belly.”

“Shhh.” Y/N rocks her gently. “I don’t want you to be afraid.”

“So that’s it? We just give up?”

“No,” Y/N locks eyes with her son. “We’re not giving up, we’re gonna fight. Every victor, all of us, to try and stop the games.”

“Maybe you can stop it.” Arista nods, against Y/N’s chest.

“Maybe we can,” Y/N agrees, “but if we can’t, just incase, we need to talk about-”

“Is Aunt Madge gonna take us?”

“That’s the very last resort.” Haymitch admits, “we don’t know whose names they’re gonna call, even then, someone else could volunteer. Ideally, one of us will be able to-”

“So what you’re saying is that after this two weeks we might never see you again?”

“We’re going to do everything we can.” Haymitch promises.

“But it’s possible?” Everest is confused, outraged.

“Yes. It’s possible.”

The days run together, between training and spending as much time with their children as they can. On that last night, the children sleep between them, Y/N on one side and Haymitch on the other, clinging to this moment.

Cruelly, inevitably, the sun rises. Madge is at their door and Y/N comes to answer, while Haymitch and the children ready themselves.

Her sister says not a word, pulling Y/N in for a hug.

“Thank you for coming.” Y/N breathes, smoothing down the younger woman’s hair.

“You don’t need to thank me.” Madge wishes she could do more. “I’ll do my part here and wait for you to come home.”

“They need you, Madge. Now more than ever.”

Madge only holds her tighter. “I love you.”

“I love you so much.”

Peacekeepers are sent to collect them, marching the four victors to the justice building. Prim and Mrs. Everdeen trail closely behind Madge and the Abernathy children, one clasped in each hand.

“Welcome, welcome,” Effie begins her speech, “as we celebrate the seventy-fifth anniversary and third Quarter Quell of the Hunger Games.”

From his place on the stage, Haymitch can see his children. The boy, that squawked like a bird the first time he was placed in Haymitch’s arms, reminding him that the world might not be such a terrible place. The girl, that had him wrapped around her little finger before she could speak and gave him reason to dream. They look to him in fear now. Fear that they will lose their mother, fear that they will lose him.

“As always, ladies first.”

Y/N reaches for Katniss’ hand. There is nothing to hope for, no favorable outcome.

Effie draws the name, clearing her throat before announcing. “Y/N Abernathy.”

Madge lifts Arista into her arms, hushing the little girl as best she can, but she is distraught. Her hiccuping sobs causing the crowd to shift uncomfortably. Prim scoots in to rub her back.

Everest does not move. He does not blink and he does not cry. Forever ingraining this image of his mother in his mind.

Y/N can’t risk a glance at Haymitch. She knows how deeply the knife is buried in his chest, how the guilt will twist it, now and for years to come.

Katniss jerks her back almost forcefully, “no.”

“It’s ok,” Y/N whispers.

“I volunteer.”

“Katniss, please don’t do this.” Y/N pleads, but they are out of time, they are out of good choices.

“I volunteer as tribute.” Katniss announces, with more certainty the second time. Pulling her hand from Y/N’s to stand beside Effie, at the center of the stage.

“Wonderful.” Effie swallows down her sorrow, the show must go on, “and now for the male.”

Y/N’s head is light, spinning as if she might faint. Her lungs burn, perhaps she has stopped breathing.

“Haymitch Abernathy.”

“I volunteer as tribute,” Peeta says, without hesitation.

“I can’t let you do that,” Haymitch stops him, with a hand to his chest.

“You can’t stop me.” Peeta narrows his eyes.

“Peeta-”

“Let go.”

Haymitch has no choice but to obey. Sending their victors back as tributes, erasing all they’ve done.

“Very well,” Effie sniffs, hoping to regain some composure, “the tributes from district twelve; Katniss Everdeen…and Peeta Mellark.”

The entirety of their district raises three fingers in solidarity. They are not alone in this sadness; this defeat. Among the crowd, Y/N finds her mother, who has not been coherent enough to attend a reaping since her own.

She’s never blamed her mother, not for her absence or her addiction, nor the inability to move past Maysilee’s untimely death. Y/N cannot imagine losing her little sister, part of her would die too.

The idea that maybe she could talk to her before she leaves, maybe her mother has some divine words of wisdom or comfort-

Commander Thread takes Katniss by the arm, robbing her and Peeta of the chance to say goodbye. Y/N and Haymitch are carted away shortly after. Straight to the train station.

The ride is silent for a long while; eventually the four of them find each other, dutifully seated in the blue velveteen chairs. Drawn together like magnets, though there are no words.

Haymitch slumps down in his chair, extending his free hand to Y/N.

She takes it, the same way she always has, with a love and understanding that Haymitch is sure he will never deserve. But that is the problem with love; with life, really. So rarely does anyone get what they deserve.

Y/N continues preparing her presentation for the morning, detailing the participating victor’s strengths and weaknesses. Hesitating at each name she knows well.

Cashmere and Gloss, district one…

The train car doors open and Effie joins them, “before we begin, I’ve had a thought.”

“You don’t say.”

Effie gives Haymitch the side eye, pressing on in spite of his remark. “Katniss has her gold mockingjay pin, I have my hair.” The swirling golden updo. “I’m going to get the three of you something gold.”

Y/N finally looks up.

“And why is that?” Haymitch wonders, sipping at his teacup, containing a bit more than leaves.

“A token! Show them we are a team, and they can’t just-”

“Thank you,” Katniss says, taking Effie’s hand.

Peeta’s gaze softens. He’s accepted his fate, the only thing to do now is make sure Katniss is happy, keep her alive.

————————————————————————

No expense is spared for this very special Quarter Quell. A new training center and tribute living quarters are waiting to greet them in the Capitol.

“I want you to forget everything you think you know about the games.” Haymitch cuts through the silence. “Last year was child’s play, this year you’re dealing with all experienced killers.”

“Ok. What does that mean for us?” Peeta asks.

“It means you’re going to need some allies.”

“No.” Katniss shoots him down.

“Do it your own way, but we know these people and if you go it alone their first move will be to hunt you down.”

“Katniss, I know it’s not easy for you to trust them,” Y/N understands how difficult this all must be. “So you’re just gonna have to trust us.”

“Fine, show me.”

Y/N makes for her tablet, dimming the lights as her slideshow is put to the big screen.

“This should be good.” Peeta relaxes farther into the loveseat beside Katniss.

“Cashmere and Gloss. Brother and sister from district one, they won back to back games, Capitol favorites, lots of sponsors.”

“This is your first choice?” Katniss nearly chokes on her own saliva.

“Well,” Y/N swipes to the next screen, “they’re careers so they are extremely lethal. A few other positive attributes would be strength, agility, very intelligent. They offer protection, opportunities for better sponsors-”

“Despite some favoritism and general bias on her part,” Haymitch motions to Y/N, “this a strong choice.”

Katniss nods, she’ll consider it. For Y/N.

“From district three, Wiress and Beetee. Not fighters, but brilliant and…weird, real tech savvy.”

“We chose them because they offer a unique skill set-”

“Yes.” Katniss agrees, surprising even Peeta.

“O-ok,” Y/N moves to the next contender. “This is Finnick, from district four.”

“He won his games at fourteen, youngest ever. Don’t let that fool you, he’s incredibly humble.”

“You’re kidding.” Katniss scoffs.

“Yes, he’s a peacock, a total preener,” Haymitch does not mince words, “but he’s the Capitol darling, they love him here, lots of sponsors.”

“Very skilled in combat, especially in water.”

They carry on like this for some time, through Johanna in seven, Chaff and Seeder in eleven. Leaving Peeta and Katniss much to discuss as they retire for the night.

“You think she’ll come around?” Y/N dares to ask.

“You want me to be honest?” Haymitch tosses wayward hair from his eyes.

“Yes.”

“It’s gonna take a miracle.”

————————————————————————

Watching Haymitch’s games is a necessary evil, giving them some insight into the craftings of a Quarter Quell arena. The landscape is nothing short of paradise. Vibrant colors, beautiful creatures and a feast, complete with candy, weapons, anything a tribute could ask for; right at the cornucopia.

But the food is poison and the wildlife is deadly, in the games nothing is ever as it seems.

Though Haymitch does not fall prey to the gamemarker’s trap, many tributes do. He goes it alone for a while, ending up head to head with a pack of allies. He fights, better than Katniss imagines anyone could without experience; managing to take down two out of three opponents, before the knife is held to his throat.

The girl who spares him looks familiar, in a way that Katniss can’t place, sporting the same gold mockingjay pin she was given at the hob. “We’d live longer with two of us.”

“She looks like Madge.” Peeta voices this before Katniss can.

“She’s my mom’s little sister,” Y/N explains.

And then it all makes sense, or none of it does. Another layer to their mentor’s great ‘love story’ for Katniss and Peeta to attempt dissecting, in a bizarre form of pillow talk.

Haymitch has found the edge of the arena, Maysilee wants to turn back and he doesn’t. “We should say goodbye now. There’s only five of us, don’t want it to come down to the two of us.”

“Ok,” Haymitch lets her go.

Her screams follow not long after, the bubblegum pink birds begin tearing through her throat with razor sharp beaks.

Y/N remains glued to the screen, though the ending never changes and she cannot raise the dead.

In the end, Haymitch puts the force field to good use, leading the last career and her axe to the cliff side. Holding intestines inside his body with one hand, he waits for the weapon to ricochet; burying its blade in her skull.

“That was smart.” Katniss purses her lips.

“Too smart,” Haymitch bites out in warning, “do not attempt it. That move got my family killed.” He leaves without a word.

Y/N doesn’t go after him. Sometimes Haymitch needs to be alone and if she chases him, he won’t run. He’s too good a man and he loves her too much. He would stay, even as every cell in his body yearns to go.

————————————————————————

Haymitch returns, after a bottle or two and a very interesting talk with Plutarch. There is a plan, one to extract the victors from the arena, all they have to do is stay alive until then. He searches the tribute living quarters for Y/N, finding her already asleep in their bed.

He is determined not to wake her, flipping off the forgotten light overhead and changing out of his suit.

She stirs as he draws back the covers. “Haymitch?”

“Shh,” he climbs in behind Y/N to cradle her belly, “sleep.”

“Is everything ok?” She reaches back, stroking his hair.

“Everything is fine.” He finds her hand, kissing at her wrist and fingers, before gently lying it back on the bed.

Y/N nuzzles farther against him, “ok.”

“You know I’m always coming back, right? No matter what.” Their child shifts under his palm.

“I know,” she nods.

“If anything ever happened to you-”

“Haymitch, you don’t need to say it.”

Yes I do. “When I lost my family, I kept going. Out of spite, or insanity, whatever it was that kept me going, I did it. But if you were gone…if our kids were gone; I couldn’t. I need you safe. I need you.”

“You have me.” Y/N breathes, “right here. Just you and me.”

Part 13

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