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Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: What started as a quest to prove Eddie's 'manhood' ended with a gesture that had you hurtling towards your future--ready or not. (5.4k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, parental conflict, poverty, lots of bees, mention of parental illness, brief mention of sex work, finally some actual physical contact between them, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter five: float like a butterfly

For the first time since you’d started working nights, you didn’t dread the sound of your alarm ringing. You’d always appreciated its stillness, with only city noises and the occasional guest puncturing the perfect silence. There were some nights where you didn’t speak a word for the full eight hours of your shift; you just read or wrote or daydreamed until the clock struck six.

Except for last night, of course, when you’d passed the time by talking with Eddie and minimally contributed to wallpaper removal. Your mind flickered back to the way he’d placed his hand on yours. The sensation of his palm, calloused but warm, lingering a beat longer than necessary.

The whole moment could have been deemed unnecessary, in theory. Surely he could have modeled the action on his own and then handed you the tool so you could imitate him. Was it truly to show you how to scrape off glue, or did he have a more gratuitous intention?

Shaking your head, you eschewed the idea almost as quickly as you’d considered it. He was just being polite, a rarity among most of your male guests. Maybe that's why you were so hyper-focused on it; years of clipped conversations and crude comments had you mistaking kindness for something more flirtatious.

Speak of the Devil…

Eddie stood in the lobby, his guitar case slung across his back. He kept one elbow perched on the desk as he spoke to your mom. Whatever he said was making her laugh, a genuine one that brought a light to her eyes. She noticed you first, and when she waved you over, Eddie turned around to see what caught her attention. His smile shifted from open-mouth to close-lipped, more thoughtful and discreet without losing any of its charm.

Slinging your bag off of your shoulder next to the desk, you feigned a casual demeanor and asked, “What did I miss? Serenading my mom?” You nodded towards the guitar case, biting back a smile.

Eddie shook his head, his curls falling in his face. “Tried to make a couple bucks down at the subway station.” He shrugged, shoving his hand in his pocket. “Not enough for a ticket home, but it’s a start.”

Home. Obviously he was going home. New York had nothing for him, had chewed him up and spit him out like he left a bitter taste in its mouth. He had no reason to stay.

Oblivious to your disappointment, Mom laughed again. “Mr. Munson–”

“Eddie. Mr. Munson is my uncle.”

“Eddie,” Mom quickly amended, “was just telling me about the time he ripped his pants while he was on stage.”

Rosy red seeped into Eddie’s cheeks, evidently not expecting your mom to share that information with you. “And that was the last time I wore leather pants,” he said. “Lesson learned.”

Deeming this conclusion insufficient, you inquired further. “How exactly does one rip leather pants?” You stifled a giggle, just imagining him feeling a sudden breeze mid-concert.

“Well, ya see,” he started, crossing his arms over his faded Metallica t-shirt and smirking, “I’m what’s known as an enthusiastic performer. And as such, one might find that leather can be quite restricting.”

“So…you got really sweaty and they ripped.”

Eddie hid his face behind a curtain of curls, all but confirming your suspicions. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Heiress,” he warned with a smile, cocking his pointer finger in your direction.

Mom took that as her cue to leave, quickly clasping your hand and excusing herself. Thick tension set in without her there as a buffer. Her presence prevented any conversation from dipping too deep into flirtation; now, there was nothing stopping it.

Except, of course, the looming fact that he was a guest. And like all guests, he was a temporary fixture in your life.

“The new wallpaper didn’t come in yet,” you blurted out. Dad had insisted on ordering it from a family friend, saving money but forgoing the promises of timely delivery afforded by bigger suppliers.

Eddie shrugged, unbothered by the information. “I know.” He placed a cigarette between his lips and held out the pack in offering, but you shook your head. Without missing a beat, he put his own cigarette back and returned the box to his pocket. “Your mom was saying how excited she is for you to finish your classes and take over the motel.”

Panic flooded your lungs and constricted your breathing at the potential crisis he might have inadvertently caused. Did Mom seem upset? Her usual signs were noticeably absent: narrowed eyes, set jaw, lips painfully taut in a silent roar: we’ll discuss this later.

There was none of that. She was laughing. Happy. Not a hint of disappointment. Yet anxiety still hooked its claws into your skin, a stinging reminder of the anvil dangling over your head.

“You didn’t say—”

“Not a word.” Eddie waved away the thought. “Just smiled and nodded.”

Your chest went concave with relief, and you had to stop yourself from reaching out and pulling him into a hug. His arms held a surprising strength, as evidenced by his wallpaper removal abilities, and you wondered how they would feel wrapped around your waist. Did he hug tightly, not letting go until all of the air had been squeezed from your lungs? Or did he prefer a softer, lazier embrace, one with a hand free to stroke up and down your back?

Why did it matter?

“Is there a reason you haven’t told them?” he asked. The sound of his voice invaded your senses, pulling you back to reality in an instant. “I mean, they seem nice enough.”

Stooping down to grab your notebook, you nodded in agreement. “That’s part of the problem, I guess.” Your teeth scraped along your tongue as you considered your words. “If they were shitty, I wouldn’t feel so bad about letting them down.”

“Letting them down?”

You nodded, feeling that familiar pit that formed in your stomach whenever this subject arose. “Yeah. I can’t be a social worker and run the motel. And if I don’t stick around, they’ll have to close this place for good.”

Eddie breathes out with a low whistle. “Pretty high stakes.”

“You can say that again.” Resting your elbows on the desk, you buried your head in your hands. “How did your parents react when you told them you wanted to be a rockstar?” you asked, your voice slightly muffled.

He took so long to respond that you looked up, wondering if he’d up and left while you weren’t watching.

“My dad’s, um, not in the picture, and my mom died when I was a kid,” he finally said, using his left thumbnail to pick at the right.

“I’m sorry.” And you were: for his loss and for prying into his history. Mortification bloomed and prickled sweat under your arms, and you clenched them to your sides in a feeble attempt to hide any forming stains.

“S’okay. I mean, you didn’t know, so…” his shoulders moved up and down, his mouth drawn into a forgiving half-smile, “now you know.”

Now you know. A little slice of him, presented to you like one of the cakes the local bakery kept locked behind a pane of refrigerated glass. The ones you admired as a kid, reveling in their perfectly smooth icing and intricately piped pastel flowers. They’d always seemed too delicate to touch, so you’d skipped over them in favor of sprinkle-laden cookies.

Logically, you know that the cakes were made for consumption. All you needed to do was ask for a taste. But you could never bring yourself to ruin their beauty. Not then, and not now.

And so, as always, you stepped away and chose the easier path instead.

“Did you really rip your pants on stage?”

Eddie’s nose wrinkled at the sudden subject change, but he recovered quickly. “Sure did. Split right down the seam.” He puffed out a short laugh through his nose. “Poor Gareth got an eyeful that night.”

“Are you sure that isn’t the real reason you left the band?” Picking up the nearest pen, you poked the capped end into his forearm.

He play-winced, rubbing the spot the cap touched, and shook his head. “Nah, this was my high school band. Corroded Coffin.”

“Sounds ominous.”

“Oh, yeah. We were terrifying.” Eddie widened his eyes in mock-horror. “The backbone of Indiana’s satanic panic, actually.”

You raised your brows. “Impressive.”

“Mhm. We only broke up because our bassist went to college out of state. Princeton.” He lowered his voice at the name as though relaying confidential information.

“Not the Ivy Leagues!” You pressed your hand to your heart, clutching metaphorical pearls.

Eddie grimaced. “I’m afraid so.”

“I’ve heard Princeton is known for their demonic studies program, so that tracks.”

This is nice. This is easy. No mention of schoolwork, or the motel, or parents—or lack thereof. You could do this all night.

A throat clearing followed by a hacking cough took you both by surprise. Peering over Eddie’s shoulder, you found Phyllis standing in the lobby doorway.

“There’s a wasp nest outside my window,” she said, tugging up one drooping shirt sleeve. The odor of stale cigarettes grew stronger as she walked closer to you and Eddie; even if she quit smoking today, the pungency would always cling to her.

Uncapping your pen, you reached into the desk drawer and grabbed the stack of Post-Its. “I’ll make a note to get some insecticide spray tomorrow,” you promised, poorly curbing your exasperation.

If it isn’t one thing, it’s another.

The older woman didn’t put up any argument, but Eddie was obviously displeased. “Like hell you will.” He glanced around, pent-up energy overflowing as he bounced on the balls of his feet. “You got a baseball bat around here?”

Your “Uh, no,” overlapped with Phyllis’s nonchalant, “Yeah, of course,” and she left to fetch it.

A sigh escaped you, hinting at your mounting irritation. “Eddie, absolutely not,” you insisted. “Just wait till I get the spray and you can do it then.”

He clicked his tongue with a note of condescension that you didn’t particularly appreciate. “Don’t worry about it, Heiress. I’m from the Midwest; our wasps are like your rats. This’ll be nothing.” When you remained unconvinced, he adopted a teasing grin. “I don’t tell you how to do your nerd stuff, do I? So leave me to my man stuff in peace.”

You nearly choked on your own saliva. “Your man stuff?”

“Yes. Very strong and burly.” He flexed a bicep for emphasis and you threw your hands up in defeat, trying to ignore the soft fluttering in your stomach at the vein bulging through his skin.

Phyllis returned with the bat, the wooden neck clenched between arthritic fingers. “It’s right around the side,” she told Eddie. “Just look for the giant nest. And don’t forget to give this back when you’re done; I’m working tonight.” She thrust the bat into Eddie’s hand and padded back to her room, slippers thwacking against the linoleum.

Eddie twirled the bat, threading it through his fingers and catching it smoothly. He smiled, unable to camouflage his pride. “See? I got this.” His grasp was determined without a hint of tenderness, a stark contrast to the way he’d held your hand the night prior. Tucking it underneath a denim-clad arm, he took a deep breath and pushed through the front door like he was preparing for battle.

You watched him leave, shaking your head. Evidently, he had a point to prove, but you doubted the chances of his success. Part of you wished you could leave the desk to watch him in action. Another part was relieved that you had the excuse to avoid witnessing this disaster as it unfolded.

As you predicted, not even half a minute had passed before you heard Eddie yelping, his footsteps thudding towards the motel’s entrance. He flung the door open with enough force that it smacked against the wall, scrambling to slam it shut behind him. His chest heaved under his jacket as he tried to catch his breath.

“Shit, shit, shit.” He swatted around his head at some lingering wasps. “Son of a bitch!”

Sucking your tongue to your front teeth, you bit back an I-told-you-so. “How’s your ‘manhood’ or whatever?”

Maybe that wasn’t much better than outright gloating, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Eddie made a closed fist with only his middle finger sticking up, and he winced almost immediately. “I think one of those little fuckers got me.” He cradled one hand in the other as you walked towards him for a closer inspection.

Sure enough, a stinger was poking out from the side of his forefinger.

Phyllis came shuffling back from her room, pink lipsticked mouth pursed in concern. “Jesus, kid. Were you trying to piss them off?” The loose skin under her neck wobbled when she chortled. “You swung at that nest like you were Babe Ruth!”

Through a tense smile, you asked her to get a soapy washcloth so you could clean out the wound before it could spark an allergic reaction. “Unless, of course, that interferes with your man stuff,” you said to Eddie, all-too happy to throw his words back in his face.

“Fuck off.” A traitorous chuckle broke through his stoic exterior despite his very real pain. His eyes followed your movements as you grabbed the first aid kit.

You took his warm palm in yours, gently turning it to assess the afflicted finger. The stinger was lodged under his skin, already turning the surrounding area an angry red.

“Oof, he really stung you good, huh?” Your tone was all sympathy; you figured he’d gotten enough jabs from the wasps.

Eddie gritted his teeth as you gingerly scraped at the stinger with the edge of your notebook, taking care not to squeeze out any of the venom. You tightened your grip to keep his hand in place, feeling the soft but steady thrum of his heartbeat between his wrist and his thumb’s tendon. It had a melody of its own.

Slowly, meticulously, you eased the stinger out from where it was wedged.

“Sorry,” you said softly, noting the way his eyes clamped shut as you drew out the stinger and brushed it onto the desk.

“S’okay.” He managed a small smile, one you returned without hesitation.

The night was still for a moment before he spoke again, his voice soft but eager.

“Tell me more about Izzy.”

Apparently, you weren’t the only one with a penchant for rapid subject changes.

At once, your head was filled with memories of her: the pigtails held in place with thick rubber bands, the popsicle juice-stained pink t-shirt, the giggles that melted away your stress from a succession of ungrateful customers. He said something else, but you were too engrossed in your own thoughts for the words to register.

“Hmm?”

“The little girl you helped.” Eddie cocked a quizzical brow, suddenly worried that he’d remembered incorrectly. “That was her name, right?”

You nodded. “She was only there that one day. I didn’t see her again.”

Her mother was probably too embarrassed to stay any longer and found another motel. If you could go back in time, you would have reassured her, maybe even offered to watch after Izzy while she worked. You might have informed her of programs where she could find a job that didn’t put her or Izzy in harm’s way.

Eddie continued talking, for some reason persistent in his quest for answers. “But you said she talked to you while she was drawing. About her favorite stuff?”

Phyllis returned with cloth before you could answer him, and she rested it on the desk with a sigh. “I’m gonna head out,” she said, pointing at Eddie, “but my bat better be in my room before I get back, Yogi Berra.”

He nodded, absently massaging the nape of his neck. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” One burgundy-painted fingertip pointed at Eddie, then at you. “I like this kid.”

How do you even respond to that? An honest, ‘me, too’? An overly sarcastic, ‘he’s alright’?

You opted for a small, unassuming smile and the reminder to be safe, which was absurd when you really thought about it. Phyllis had been doing this, as she put it, “since my tits were above my belly button,” yet you were telling her about safety.

Bringing your attention back to the sting, you clutched the sopping wet washcloth. Phyllis apparently hadn’t wrung it out; water dripped down the side of your fingers and splashed onto the floor in an uneven plop-plop-plop.

With an abundance of care, you swiped the cloth over the sting site. It was already starting to swell, the skin raised and angry.

Eddie reflexively pulled away, the tension evident from the way his front teeth formed grooves in his lower lip.

“Fuck, that hurts.” His free fist pounded into the desktop with so much force that, for a split second, you worried that he might leave a dent.

“I know, but we have to clean it out,” you said.

He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath; you weren't sure you even wanted to know what he said. “Yeah, yeah.” He winced as the frayed fibers grazed him again. “So…Izzy?”

“There isn’t much to say,” you answer honestly. “I mean, she just told me she loved McDonalds french fries and Muppet Babies. Especially baby Fozzie Bear.”

“Anything else?”

You thought back for a moment. “Her favorite animal was dogs, but only the little ones. She said the big ones scared her because they barked too loud. Oh, and her favorite color was light purple.”

The memory is bittersweet, bathing you in both comfort and a dull ache. It was almost six years ago but the little girl had made herself at home in your mind. You thought about her on a daily basis, wondering if she and her mom were still bouncing from motel to motel, or if they’d found a permanent place to settle. Every ounce of optimism you possessed worked to help you believe that they were safe and that she didn’t remember when safety wasn’t guaranteed.

“I knew it.”

You looked up from applying calamine lotion, dabbing the pink-stained cotton ball over any excess dripping off of his finger. “Knew what?”

“I knew you’d remember everything she told you.” His thumb relaxed and fluttered down until it rested on yours, the pad of his finger on your knuckle.

You reached for a Band-Aid before realizing that opening it required two hands. With more hesitation that you anticipated, you let go of him. “And what makes you say that?” You wrapped the bandage around his finger, careful not to press too tightly around the sting. “There. Good as new.”

Eddie smiled his appreciation. “I, um, had a similar experience when I was a kid.” He swallowed, picking at the Band-Aid until the adhesive side began to bunch up. When he allowed himself to glance at you, he saw you looking back at him, silently encouraging him to tell his story.

“My mom got sick when I was in kindergarten. The treatment made her tired and nauseous, like, all the time; when she wasn’t sleeping, she was throwing up.” His eyes clouded over and his voice cracked slightly; he cleared his throat and continued. “I was at school one day, and the social worker asked me if I had anyone at home who washed my clothes for me. And when I told her no, she asked me to bring any clothes I needed cleaned with me the next day. So I did, and after school let out, she took me to the Laundromat.”

If you told him that he didn’t have to keep talking, he'd stop. He’d wipe away any residual tears and excuse himself, and you’d once again spend your shift alone. And so you didn’t say anything, just stood there as his gears turned in recollection.

“She had this game: she’d hold up a piece of clothing and ask if it goes in the ‘lights’ or ‘darks’ pile, and she would get faster and faster until I was laughing too hard to answer.” Eddie exhaled a short laugh and swiped his tongue over his top teeth. “The whole time, I’m thinking that it’s all fun, that this is a normal thing that every kid did. I didn’t realize until years later that it was because my clothes smelled, y’know?”

Sheepishness colored Eddie’s face in pink splotches as he shifted from man to boy and then back again.

“Anyway, your story about Izzy kinda reminded me of that. And she might not remember your name or even what you talked about, but she’ll remember someone being there for her. Someone who didn’t act like she was a bother or a charity case. Just a kid who wanted to play.”

His words left you without any of your own. There was so much to digest; chiefly, your newfound glimpse into Eddie’s past. And though you’d only ever known him as an adult, you were still picturing him as a child. He sat atop a counter where others folded their clothes, his brown eyes–looking even bigger than they did presently, given his small stature–gazing up at the woman in wonderment as he giddily sorted his laundry.

And then, of course, there was the delicately embedded compliment. The reassurance that you had been a positive force in Izzy’s life, even through one brief encounter.

It was the only part that you could elaborate on without intruding on his privacy. He’d shared something so personal, and while you were desperate to learn more about him, you didn’t want to barge past the boundaries he had so carefully constructed.

“Yeah, I…just wanted her to feel safe, I guess.” You’d devised a plan while you drew flowers and Care Bears in case no one showed up to find her. Everything had to be done so that she remained in the dark about the situation’s severity; you’d have Mom or Dad check the room, only calling the authorities if Izzy’s mom was unresponsive—or worse.

In the end, there was no need for you to worry. Her mother was alert and Izzy herself was none the wiser that anything was wrong. You hadn’t even told your parents about the situation despite their potential involvement. Eddie, of all people, was the only other person who knew.

He nodded and reached over, giving your hand a subtle, tender squeeze.

“You did.”

Reassurance drifted through the air and clung to you like the sharp scent of tobacco on his jacket. Receiving compliments wasn’t your strongest suit, so you pivoted topics to avoid stretching the ensuing awkward silence any further.

“The calamine lotion should help with the itching, but you can take some Benadryl if it’s still bad.” Rummaging through the first aid kit, you searched for the medication but only managed to scrounge up a bottle of expired ibuprofen. “There’s a pharmacy a few blocks down. They’ll have some there.” A little mom and pop shop that sold candy and cheap wine in addition to different over-the-counter medicines, it had been a community staple since before you were born.

The corners of Eddie’s eyes crinkled, lips turning upwards in amusement. “An heiress, a social worker, and a nurse? What can’t you do?”

That was a loaded question, and you were relieved that it was rhetorical so you wouldn’t have to list all of your shortcomings. You settled for flipping him off with an accompanying smile of your own.

“I should probably get that bat before she gets back,” he said, glancing towards the older woman’s room. He lowered his voice and continued. “She kinda scares me.”

“Oh, I definitely would not get on her bad side,” you agreed. “Phyllis’s wrath will make that wasp sting feel like a walk in the park.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.” His laugh was music that stirred up a desire to dance, to be carried by the melody like a strong gust of wind, and then he was out the door.

Immediately, you were inclined to find something new to talk about when he walked back in. You’d had two days of companionship and had been spoiled by it; the thought of another night in solitude suddenly seemed lonely.

You couldn’t ask about his parents or the social worker who’d taken him to the Laundromat; that was too personal, too soon. Same with his old band. But music–his favorite songs, musicians, albums–that might be safe enough to explore.

The door opened and brought with it a cool evening breeze. Eddie returned much more confidently than he had the last time, Phyllis’s bat slung over his shoulder.

“Apparently, I actually managed to knock the nest down,” he reported, sounding as surprised as you felt.

He stifled a yawn, denim creasing at the elbow when he lifted his hand to cover his mouth. It was then that you noticed the way sleep tugged at his eyelids, dashing any remaining hope of having a conversational partner this evening. Asking him to stay awake for you was just selfish.

“I’ll see you around, Heiress. Let me know if there’s any more man stuff you need from me.” He rapped his knuckles on the desk twice in quick succession and started towards his room.

“Night, Eddie.”

Opportunity slipped through your fingers as he walked away, the sound of his footsteps eventually too muted to hear. You shoved your disappointment beneath the surface. Eddie wasn’t your friend; he was a guest who happened to be friendly. Asking him to stick around and chat would be unprofessional.

If he happened to stop by the desk while you worked, you could make small talk. Otherwise, it would be business as usual.

Minutes were hours and hours were days. Another trucker needed a room for the night, and you checked him in around four o’clock.

You thought about the certainty in Eddie’s assurance that Izzy had felt safe with you. He didn’t know her; he barely knew you, and he wasn’t even there when it all happened. Yet his approval illuminated from the inside out and you replay it over and over.

You did. You did. You did.

Izzy was safe with you and she knew it. If you swallowed your fears and forged your own path, you could help other kids just like her. But it would come at a steep cost unless your parents could somehow miraculously afford to hire a new employee.

Your stomach turns just imagining the motel’s windows shuttered, a For Sale sign propped up in the door, ready to be snapped up by a major hotel chain for a mediocre sum that would barely pay off the overdue bills. It haunted you.

How long could you do this? How long could you push off your own dreams in favor of your parents’? At what point did you cross that fine line between selflessness and martyrdom?

Exhaustion crushed your body, strong enough to overpower the churning anxiety. Still, your sleep was fitful, and you woke up before your alarm feeling wholly unrested. Achiness radiated through your bones as you dragged yourself out of bed.

You knew what you had to do.

Dad noticed your earlier departure, so used to you leaving at 1:45 every day like clockwork. His brows pinched with perplexity as he determined whether he’d forgotten about a change in your schedule.

“Just running an errand before class.”

His confusion faded, replaced with a grin. “Thought I was losing my mind.” The way he stood under the lighting accentuated the gray flecks in his hair and mustache and solidified that he was, in fact, aging. His eventual retirement loomed closer, more of a when than an if with each passing day.

“Can’t lose what you never had,” you teased weakly. Dad met your joke with a wink; if he had picked up on the falter in your voice, he was gracious enough to ignore it.

You took a slight deviation from your usual route, walking past the bus stop and turning the corner until you reached the mailbox. It beckoned you, taunted you, sneered at your cowardice. The stamped envelope mocked you tenfold; innocuous on the surface but held the weight of betrayal.

It contained your admissions letter to NYU with the “accept” box marked and a deposit check that nearly drained your savings, ready to go.

The mailbox hinge creaked open so loudly that it seemed to echo. All you had to do was drop the envelope down the chute and pray that you made the right choice.

Regret surged through your veins the moment the envelope left your fingertips. You acted on instinct, shoving your hand back down the box to reclaim your letter, but you knew it was a fruitless effort before you’d even failed. It was already lost in a sea of bills and birthday cards.

“Shit!” Yanking your arm out before someone accused you of mail theft, you tilted your head back in an attempt to stop the impending tears.

With one stupid decision, you’d heaved a shovel into the dirt and begun digging a grave for the family business.

What the hell were you thinking?

As though it had a mind of its own, your foot swung out and smacked against the tin drum with all of your might. It took a beat for the pain to hit, the throbbing in your toes matching the reverberating metal.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You didn’t care who saw, who heard. Anger and self-loathing bubbled over like boiling water and scalded you in shame. Everything was so far out of your control, and you couldn’t rein it in. The world kept spinning fast, faster, too fast—

“Kicking it won’t make the mailman show up, y’know. ‘S not like rubbing a genie’s lamp.”

Eddie stood on the other side of the mailbox. A plastic bag dangled from his hand, the box of drugstore brand antihistamine peeking through its translucence. His playfulness morphed into concern when he noted your dewy lashes. “Heiress? You okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” You swiped at your cheeks and sniffed back the mucus that collected in your nostrils. You probably should have been embarrassed that he’d caught you in such a state of distress; maybe you would be once the dust settled.

He wrinkled his nose dubiously. You couldn’t blame him; why would he be convinced when you were assaulting mailboxes and swearing at the air?

“Seriously. Just having a bad day.” And it was going to get even worse if you missed your bus—again. “Thanks for asking, though.” You managed a grateful smile to prove your sincerity.

Grabbing your backpack from its spot on the ground, you zipped it back up and hoisted it over your shoulder before starting back towards the stop.

“Hey, wait a sec.” Eddie called out to you, shuffling over until he was by your side. “You, uh, your makeup…” He trailed off bashfully, raising his thumb but stopping before it touched your skin. “May I?”

You nodded, breath hitching as the pad of his finger grazed just below your eye. He gently rubbed, tongue poking between his lips while he focused on removing the smudge without hurting you.

He was close, almost too close for comfort. There was a small cut on his chin where he must have nicked himself shaving, and you forced yourself to stare at that instead of his wide eyes.

“There…we…go.” He held up a mascara-stained thumb as evidence. Without thinking, you pressed your own thumb to it. The knuckles of your remaining four fingers slotted between his until you pulled away.

Eddie laughed, apparently amused by the odd gesture. “I’ll take that as a thank you.” He wiped the residue on his shirt, not caring if it left a mark. “Don’t miss the bus; wouldn’t want you to be late for your nerd stuff again.”

“Mhm.”

You harnessed all of your strength to unglue your feet from the sidewalk. Your body operated on autopilot to its destination while your mind only thought of the heat that leapt from his thumb to yours, or maybe yours to his.

It was cyclical, you surmised as the bus approached, with no clear beginning or end.

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teyums · 1 year

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His Secret Admirer (Final Part) - Neteyam x fem na’vi reader

part one | part two | part three |bonus chapter

wc: 8.3k

a/n: ahhh you guys we’ve reached the end of the His Secret Admirer series! So bittersweet :,). Thank you for all the love on the chapters I’ve put out, it means a lot that people enjoy my writing this much. And thank you for 500 followers!! (still can’t believe that).

Here is the well awaited Part 4, the final part. I am sooo beyond happy with how this came out I honestly think it’s my best one, and it’s also the longest out of all of them! I had so much fun writing it i love these two so much it hurts. I hope you guys enjoy reading! 💗

contains: sooo much fluffff with a sprinkle of spice 🤭

The next morning came terribly fast, which was pretty much the opposite of what you had hoped for. You awoke groggy and unsettled, the night hadn’t the courtesy of blessing you with the rest you so badly needed to prepare for what was to come. Today was the day of the well awaited festival, the day you looked forward to all year, and now you were dreading in with every fiber in your body. While you tried to convince yourself you were ready to face Neteyam, you were still utterly terrified at the possibility of potentially facing rejection.

You pulled the light sheet that held warmth to your body over your face, hoping your mother would somehow forget you even existed. You weren’t even sure you were breathing. Your body tensed when you heard footsteps nearing, shutting your eyes and making a wish for them to disappear. Perhaps it would’ve worked had you not used them all up last night, begging for at least a couple hours of continuous, undisturbed sleep.

The sheets were pulled from over your head, the bright sunlight making an abrupt reappearance and aiding in waking you up completely. “Maaaa!” You groaned, throwing an arm up to cover your eyes. “Leave me, I’m not ready.” Your whining did nothing to deter your mother from her plans.

“Up, child. There is no time like the present.” She sat beside you, grabbing your arm and gently pulling you to sit up next to her.

You sluggishly lifted your body from where you had fallen asleep last night, your shoulders slumping as you looked at her with doubting eyes. “But what if it all goes wrong?”

“No fear, everything will work out the way it is meant to in the end.” She spoke reassuringly, stroking your arm.

Your mother was always so positive all the time, and usually she was correct. You had no idea how she did it, but it’s been proven your mother knows best so you listened. You exhaled, your uncertainty leaving along with your breath and nodding your head in agreement.

“Good, now we must begin. There is no time to waste.” She grinned.

Taking your braids down took what felt like three lifetimes. In na’vi culture when a woman is looking to court a potential mate, her hair must be loose and styled differently than it is everyday. Something about impressing the male you would be promised to. You tugged at the beads that had been woven into your hair for about a month now, wincing whenever it would catch a loose strand in the process. Though the action of unloosing them was both daunting and aggravating, you couldn’t help the way your excitement grew every time you moved onto the next one.

You ran your fingers through your jet black hair, it slightly wavy from the style it had previously been in. It stopped just above your mid back, the sides pulled back and secured with a clasp adorned with beautiful crimson colored feathers. Two strands were left out in the front, the bottoms having two of each of the beads you used for Neteyam’s necklace on them.

Your mother had sewn together a gorgeous outfit for you, the top garment using the same feathers you had in your hair. They were strung together with thin beaded loops, about three small feathers coming down on each side of your chest to maintain your decency. You held it out in front of you, looking towards your mother apprehensively. The top was so tiny, you wondered if it would actually even cover anything.

Thankfully for you, it did. You still felt a bit exposed as this was much more revealing and dainty than something you would normally wear, however you knew it was only because of the occasion, so you obliged. The feathers felt soft against your skin, and you gently toyed with the intricate beading that tickled below your collarbone. You eyed yourself in the slab of glass that served as a mirror, covering your mouth in awe at the sight of yourself. You hadn’t felt this beautiful in a while and your mom could tell, coming over to give you a tight hug and smiling back at you in the reflection.

“My child, you look stunning. I cannot believe how much you’ve grown.” Her voice was one of intense admiration, backing away and waving her hands as she started to tear up.

“Mama,” You laughed to yourself, bringing a hand up to your cheek as you quickly became embarrased. Your smile was bittersweet, approaching your very emotional mother and taking hold of her shaky hands. “Don’t cry. I’m still your little syulang.”

She sniffed and nodded in immediate agreeance, pulling you into yet another hug that you were sure would cut off your airways this time. Wiping her tears, she reached over to grab the necklace the two of you had made off the table, gently placing it in your open palm and closing it. “Go get him.” She gleamed.

~~~

Neteyam sat on a stool in front of a mirror in his family’s home, head hung in silence and hands clasped together in his lap. He eyed them closely, feigning interest while his thumbs twiddled idly. The tension in the air between him and his mother as she prepared him for the festival could easily be sliced with the knife he kept strapped to his waist. His braids were pulled back, orange feathers weaved into the strands here and there. He had a burning urge to pluck them out, grimacing at the fact that Eyiti would be wearing matching ones.

Neytiri worked on him silently, a word hadn’t been spoken between them since his outburst yesterday, and he felt the guilt eating him alive. His mother always had something to say, even if it were something as simple as correcting him on his grammar. Knowing her to be outspoken, she made sure her opinion was always heard, even if nobody wanted to listen. So the fact that he hadn’t heard her so much as scold him made him worry. Either her feelings were vastly hurt, or she was in deep contemplation about something.

“Your father and I have made a decision.” The sudden appearance of his mother’s voice caused his head to snap up in her direction, his mouth open slightly while he awaited the verdict. He searched her face for any hint towards what she would say next, but lately it’s been hard for him to read her emotions. Saying the two of them had been disconnected recently was putting it lightly.

“And?” He questioned, his voice just above a whisper. For some reason he was afraid that if he asked too eagerly, the answer he received would be opposite of the one he so badly wanted.

“And,” She sighed, placing the tool she had used to help re-braid his hair down on the table. “We have decided to let you choose your own mate.”

His eyes widened the second the words left her lips and his arms trapped her in a tight embrace before she could fully finish what she was saying. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” He repeated, feeling that familiar lump return to his throat. “I’m so sorry for what I said, mother.” His voice split as her hand came down to affectionally caress his head.

“Neteyam,” She peered down at him empathetically, using her hand to turn his face towards her and keeping it on his cheek. “Do not apologize, you were right. We have no right to dictate who you love. I chose for myself, as should you.” She nodded, pulling him away gently so she could finish getting him ready. “All that’s needed from you, is to get through tonight.” Tying his songchord around his bicep, she smiled at him and gently placed her hands on his shoulders. “And after that, I would love to meet the girl my son has fought so hard for.”

~~~

You watched as na’vi gleefully danced into the auburn night, singing out praises to the spirits and celebrating a year that had awarded your clan with yet another bountiful hunting season. There was a big bonfire off to the side where a circle of drunken men sat around, laughing loudly and feasting on the legs of an animal with gluttony. You clasped the necklace in your hands tightly and carefully made your way through the crowd, repeating affirmations in your head to keep yourself from puking. It was simple, really. Find Neteyam, give him the necklace, and tell him you have feelings for him and want to be his life long mate. Boom, happily ever after. Easy, right? Wrong. You kept forgetting that she-devil would probably be attached to him at the hip, making your plan even harder to go through with than it already was.

You shook the image out of your head before it burned itself into your skull, mapping out your breathing to remain calm. “You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.” You mumbled to yourself, peeking your head around in the mass of people until your eyes locked on the man of the hour.

The second you saw him it felt like time came to a full stop. Neteyam looked even more breathtaking than usual, you had thought that would’ve been impossible until this very moment. You honestly had to stop thinking like that, this was the second time he had proven you wrong and it was getting kind of embarrassing seeing as your mouth would hang open in utter shock every time. Colorful beads and feathers embelished his hair and he wore a shoulder piece that made it easy to determine his status when he stood next to the other young men. You stared at him incredulously, almost forgetting what you were supposed to be doing right now.

You wished you could have stayed there forever and it was nice while it lasted, but unfortunately it was time to face reality.

A body that had been blocking your sight of who was next to him moved to the side and Eyiti came into view, her hand clasped onto Neteyam’s forearm as she stood next to him. Her grip so tight you could see the indentations in his arm, it looked like it hurt. You swallowed what felt like an impossible lump to push down, closing your eyes and repeating encouraging words to yourself.

You quickly decided it was not working like it did before.

“I can’t do this.” Your chest heaved, your lungs out of breath without even holding it. You spun around on your heels before he could notice you, prepared to accept defeat and go home.

But the unexpected sounds of blood curdling screams and shrieks caused you to gasp and quickly return to your prior position, the commotion of people frantically running to safety not allowing you to see what was going on. “What? What’s going on?” You grabbed the shoulders of some around you and spoke anxiously, but your attempts were futile. Your ears perked up attentively at the sound of a spine-chilling growl.

Oh no. Not here.

Your feet picked up speed before your mind could register where they were taking you. Ducking through the crowd, you hurriedly ushered the children who hadn’t yet found their mothers together and in the opposite direction of the growling. War cries began to ring out, and you watched as every hunter surrounding the perimeter of the common grounds raised their bows and weapons with haste.

“Wait!” You hopelessly shoved past barriers of your people, your voice not having the ability to project over the warriors shouting above you. You squeezed yourself between panicked bodies and nearly tripped over limbs, your ears letting you know you were getting closer.

Jake and Neytiri had since stood from their chairs that were positioned to look down over the people, and the expressions on their faces let you know that the situation in front of them was far from good.

Directly in front of Neteyam and Eyiti stood a blood thirsty Palulukan, it’s six strong legs aiding in it’s slow and menacing prance towards them. By the looks of its nostrils flaring in agitation, you were sure it would pounce any second. Neteyam, being the fearless warrior he is, instinctively stepped in front of Eyiti and raised his bow, stretching an arrow against the string with one swift motion.

You forced yourself into the center where others had backed up enough to make a large circle. Mothers held onto their children protectively, more terrified than ever. “Neteyam, lower your bow!” Your voice caught his attention almost instantly but his arms stayed raised in position, ready to protect whoever he needed to.

His eyes did not meet yours, instead they stayed targeted on the vicious animal in front of him and he shook his head harshly, not daring to let his attention waver. “Get back [Y/n]. Now.” He ordered.

You shoved the necklace you realized you were still clutching away and into your bag, your hands put out in front of you as you pleaded with him. “Please, you are scaring her. She will pounce.” You responded breathlessly, your eyes flickering between him and the most feared creature on Pandora who was obviously not in the best mood. You were most familiar with her than the others of her species, she was the one you often ran into when venturing through the forest and you could instantly tell by the sound of her growl. You usually had scraps to offer her but it was extremely rare that a Palulukan would come deep into the village, leaving you with nothing to utilize but your own skills.

“She?” You heard Lo’ak’s voice carry over from the top of the hill, referring to the fact that you knew the gender of the savage animal you all heard stories of when you were young. “[Y/n], are you crazy?!” He screeched.

Kiri’s head snapped in his direction and she swatted at his arm. “Lo’ak, hush! You must not distract her.” Whisper yelling at him so only he could hear, he rubbed his arm to soothe the sting and scowled at her.

Tuk peeked out from behind Kiri’s legs, tugging on her fingers to get her attention with a worried look on her face. “Is it gonna hurt her?” Kiri peered down at her younger sister, gently shushing her and shaking her head before returning her attention back to you. Her gaze was one of profound fascination and oddly enough— trusting.

Pre-occupied with trying to stop Neteyam from releasing his arrow in defense, you hadn’t noticed Eyiti slowly backing away from him, the look on her face one of great terror.

The last thing you wanted to do when face to face with an animal threatening to attack, was move.

“Do not!” You shrieked, your warning coming late when the snarling creature started towards her. She screamed in fear, tripping over her own feet and falling flat on her butt. Her eyes flooded with tears and she used her hands to crawl backwards, farther away from the snarling beast. You hate to admit it but there was a tiny part of you that wanted to let this creature sink her teeth into the girl who had made it her life’s mission to terrorize you. The elders, including Neteyam’s parents and hers, stood in attention at the top of the hill at the roots of home tree. Eyiti’s parents called out to her in distress, but they were much too far to assist and moving would only accelerate the attack. They would never make it in time.

You jumped into action, strategically positioning yourself right in the middle of the Palulukan and a defenseless Eyiti. The entire clan gasped, some even cried out prayers and shielded the eyes of their children as they were sure you would die in this very moment. Neteyam was the only one who relaxed somewhat, the string of his bow becoming less taut. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but for some reason, he felt you knew what you were doing.

“Ma Jake!” Neytiri cried out, one hand on her chest and the other grabbing his arm, begging for him to do something. “It will kill her!”

Jake stared down at the scene unfolding in front of him, completely bewildered with his mouth hanging open. “What the hell is she doing? Get out of there!” He yelled.

With your shoulders pulled back confidently, you mirrored the hunting approach of the animal in front of you and glared through your brows, stalking like a Palulukan would before ambushing its prey. You watched it take a step back once you rounded closer in attempt to force more room between it and the blubbering girl behind you, then raising a hand in the air to silence the na’vi who had many distracting comments and opposing opinions against your methods. “Mawey my people, mawey!” You shouted, not taking your eyes off the task in front of you.

Your olo’eyktan watched intently, signaling his approval to the men to lower their weapons like you instructed.

Kiri smiled from ear to ear while watching you, the expression on her face contrasting greatly from everyone else’s. “I knew it.” She whispered to herself, resulting in Lo’ak looking at her like she had lost her Eywa-loving mind.

The giant beast opened its mouth and a loud, menacing roar rumbled deep from its diaphragm. Sharp quills stood tall off its neck while its beard flared out as an intimidation tactic. You stood unfazed, tilting your head with narrowed eyes and loudly hissing in response. Your ears had fallen flat against your hair while you barred your sharp fangs right back with no fear. Neteyam blinked at you in genuine disbelief when the animal’s challenging stance faltered, its legs lowering itself into a submissive position in defeat.

You sighed in relief and rolled your eyes, steadily approaching the beast and gently stroking its head. “What is the matter with you, Yuna? Were you trying to get yourself killed?”

“I-is she… talking to it?” The younger Sully boy questioned, looking back and forth to anyone for an answer. Nobody could respond to him, everyone stood in shock- not able to process what had just happened. “It has a name? Bro, is nobody as lost as I am right now?” He screamed, his hands holding his head as if it were about to explode.

Your eyes dropped down when you noticed one of her legs slightly raised off the ground. You quirked an eyebrow and crouched to get a better look, easily recognizing what had made her come into the village in the first place. There was a thick, sharp chunk of wood lodged between the webbing of her paw. It would have been impossible to remove on her own.

“Oh my… you poor thing. Let me help you.” Your voice was sympathetic as you lowered your head to examine how deep it had gone, deciding it was safe for you to remove it. You used all of your strength to lift the paw that was much bigger than the size of your head with assistance from the creature, gripping the large splinter and finally removing it with a grunt after a few seconds of tugging. The animal roared in pain, and with a whimper its demeanor quelled due to the instant relief, earning an accomplished smile from you. You looked around in search of food, grabbing some teylu out of a bowl from a table off to the side. You tossed the blood stained slab of lumber to the ground once you rose to your feet.

“Make a path.” You ordered, watching the crowd that was huddled around you hurriedly part like the Red Sea.

You waved the worms in front of the creature’s nose, watching her nostrils twitch with interest before you threw them into the direction of the forest. You watched the thanator gallop away, sighing and wiping your hands off onto your legs.

“Ma Jake… Who is that girl? She possesses a fine ability.” The Tsahik stared down at you, her voice seeping with pure awe. She couldn’t even blink. Neytiri had never seen such a display in her entire life. A Palulukan had not been tamed like this since… well, her. Almost two decades past. And even then, that had been an offer of assistance from Eywa to restore balance to the land during the war with the sky people. A genuine taming, such as this, was completely unheard of.

Kiri placed a hand on her mother’s shoulder. “That is the girl Neteyam has been trying to tell you about this entire time, mother.” She smiled. “That girl, is [Y/n].”

“My daughter.” Your mother’s voice clarified as she emerged from the crowd to address Tshaik, effectively catching Neytiri’s attention, but your mother’s eyes remained on you from afar. She had been watching closely, off to the side the entire time. You had explained your hunches with the animals of Pandora to her before, how you felt a deeper connection to them than most did. All of them, even those forbidden to interact with. Though she had never seen it for herself until now, her faith in you never wavered for a second. Her eyes filled with pride seeing her daughter prove herself in a way even better than she had imagined.

Remembering you were in the middle of the circle, you looked up to see everyone gawking at you and cleared your throat before speaking up.

“Um… I’m sorry about her. You all can go back to the party now, everything’s fine. Please, proceed.” You looked around and motioned to the tables that still had candles lit atop them, staring blankly at all the eyes that were glued to your face. You were definitely not used to having this much attention on you, or attention period. It was so quiet you could hear the crackling of the bonfire in the distance. Nobody could believe how casually you were speaking about what you had just done.

“Y-you saved my life… I- Thank you.” Eyiti was a sniffling mess, her body trembling in shock from what could’ve resulted in her death. Her cheeks were stained with tears and for once in her life, her expression matched her words. Oh how it made your heart swell with joy to see her groveling.

Looking down at her, your face twisted as if you had smelled something rotten. “No, I saved my friend’s life. You, however, just happened to get lucky.” You scoffed, making your way out of the circle.

Neteyam’s breaths were heavy as he watched you, glancing up to his father with sanguine eyes, a silent plea to go after you. As soon as Jake hurriedly gave him the okay, he was running off into the crowd. Not even taking a second to help his so called ‘date’ up from the ground that served in humbling her.

He tried his best to keep up with your strides, losing sight of you a few times and apologizing to those he bumped into. He rolled his arm, swiping off the shoulder piece that was preventing him from keeping up with you and letting it drop to the ground. He plucked the feathers out of his hair with zero regard of those watching, wanting to rid of everything that had to do with the girl who kept you two apart.

You managed to make your way out of the sea of people and faded into the forest, ducking under branches and successfully escaping from the sudden influx of attention you gained from your entire village. A relaxed breath left your lips once you were out of sight, trying to take in the fact that you had saved not only one life but two, all while in front of the boy you were preparing to confess to at that. You whipped your head around at the sound of leaves rustling, hearing a voice that never failed to make your heart jump.

“[Y/n], wait!” Neteyam called out for you, his expression softening once you finally stopped. “Jeez, you’re fast.” He breathed out.

You couldn’t help the smile that threatened to appear on your face, dissappointment quickly flooding back in once you remembered the reason the two of you hadn’t been together in the first place. “Yes?”

He searched your eyes for anything that would tell him you were just as stunned as he was, but he was unsuccessful. You stood in front of him, appearing nonchalant despite what had just occurred. “What was that back there?” He asked, reaching forward and taking hold of your arm. “It was like you knew what to do. How?”

You looked down at his hand on your skin, not even being able to think as he was touching you. You swallowed hard, shrugging your shoulders sheepishly as you tried to find an answer. “I-I don’t know. I just… I listened to her. It was like I could hear her- hear her voice.” Your tone grew faint when your eyes met his again, realizing he had never once stopped looking at you, even when you stopped looking at him. You chewed your bottom lip, lowering your head to stare at the ground with a puff of air that was supposed to be a laugh. “You think I’m crazy now, don’t you.” You mumbled.

“No, no! I believe you, I do. I promise.” He shook his head vigorously, dipping his head to catch your faltering gaze once he realized that his wide-eyed, dumbfounded look must’ve given off that impression. “Look, I’m really sorry about yesterday. I did not plan for any of that to happen, with Eyiti. It was my parents doing, I tried to get out of it but I couldn’t…” He sighed, his voice faltering when he spoke of her. He didn’t even want to think about her, let alone bring her up to you.

He felt you pull away slightly, apprehensive due to you having no idea what was really going on behind the scenes other than what you had witnessed with your own eyes.

“[Y/n],” His eyebrows creased apologetically, his hand coming up to hold your cheek. “Follow me, please. I will explain everything, I just really, really need you to come with me.”

You could never say no to him, even with the residual feelings of betrayal that lingered in the back of your mind. The desperate look worn on his face was enough for you to give in without another thought. A small nod of your head brightened his face up immediately, though you could tell he was trying to let himself not get too excited at the small victory.

He took your hand into his, fingers intertwining and hearts racing. Your cheeks heated red as he pulled you through the forest with a firm grip, no intention of letting you go.

You followed closely behind him, looking back in the direction of the festival when you heard music resume in the distance. You felt a pang of guilt, you didn’t want to be the reason he got in trouble yet again. “Neteyam, you are the chief’s son. Are you sure you can just up and leave like this? They will surely be looking for you-”

The two of you broke out from the trees and onto a stretched path, your breath catching in your throat when you were suddenly pulled into his chest. If you had inched just a smidge closer, your noses would have been touching. You blinked sporadically, probably to keep yourself from fainting.

“I do not care what anyone thinks. Now is not about them, it’s about you.” The words flowed from his mouth smooth like silk, and with the way his amber eyes eyes were mending into yours you truly felt as if nothing else mattered to him. “Yesterday, you said you wanted to go on another Ikran ride with me, no?” You had no idea how he was able to maintain eye contact so easily, your legs felt like they were about to snap at any moment and you thanked Eywa you had his arms to hold onto.

“Yes…” You would have looked away by now, but his eyes were inviting you in. There was such a different look to them, like he was seeing into you. The sound he made to call for his banshee brought you back to reality. “O-oh, right now?” You gulped, seeing his Ikran land at the end of the trail.

“Yes, now.” He laughed at your stuttering, gently pulling your hand and leading you over. He glanced at you while he prepped the saddle, a playful smirk playing on his lips as you eyed the animal, the apprehensiveness you held for years trying to re-introduce itself. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re scared. This isn’t your first time.” He hopped onto its back, extending a hand out to you.

Your mouth fell open and your eyes narrowed, pretending to look offended at his teasing. “You wish.” You took his hand and grinned, allowing him to pull you up behind him. You settled into the saddle, breathing out before loosely snaking your arms around him like you remembered.

“Come on love, I don’t bite.” He chuckled, taking your arms and tightening them around him. “Wouldn’t want you to fall.” You blushed, a small shiver striking through your body when he grasped your hands and placed them over his chest just like he had done the first time.

“Shut up.” Had he not been able to hear the grin overshadowing your words he probably would have thought you were being serious.

“Ready?” He looked over his shoulder, face beaming.

Before you could even respond, a chirp to his Ikran sent it plunging into the sky at full speed. A scream left your mouth, but unlike last time, this one was oozing with exhilaration. Your grip on him tightened and you pressed your cheek against his warm back, a laugh producing from him at your thrilled squeals every time he took an unexpected dip or a turn.

Your eyes were so focused on the gorgeous display below you that when you began to ascend higher and higher into the sky, the landscape seemingly shrinking caused you to look up at his focused expression. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

After a few more minutes of flying passed, your set destination came into view. The hallelujah mountains approaching made you gasp in amazement, you had never once gotten to see them up-close due to your now squashed fear of flying. He felt your heartbeat quicken against his back, the sensation of his hand reaching back to rub your thigh instantly drawing your attention away from the scenic landscape in front of you.

The banshee came to a gradual landing on one of the larger floating platforms, its heavy wing beats slowing once its feet made contact with the ground.

Your gaze immediately locked on the faint flickering of candles in the distance, having trouble pulling your attention away from them as he dismounted. “Neteyam… What is that?” Your voice was calm and directed towards him- but your eyes remained in front of you, worried that if you expressed too much interest, whatever it was that he had set up would disappear.

“Just, come on.” He smiled diffidently and pinched the back of his neck, ignoring your question and holding his hand out to you once again.

You hurriedly grasped it and hopped off the saddle, using his arm to stabilize your landing. You could tell he was a bit nervous but you hadn’t known the exact reason why. He leisurely lead you along and you turned your head towards him, the smile on his face making your own appear as a blanket laid over the grass with a few small, lit candles became visible. You held his hand with both of yours now and squeezed gently, marveling at the set up still ahead. You couldn’t contain your excitement and skipped off without him, lowering to your knees on the soft fabric at your feet.

You brought a hand over your mouth to stifle what would’ve been your one hundredth gasp of the day, taking a glimpse around and seeing a spread of your favorite fruits and snacks positioned off to the side. “Neteyam,” You lifted your head to see he had caught up with you now, grabbing his hand and lightly pulling on it to urge him to sit down with you. “You did this for me?” The spread along with the pillowy, bioluminescent foliage around you were all very enticing, but you couldn’t look at anything else but him.

He sat beside you, blushing and nodding his head while eyeing everything like it was his first time seeing it. “Yeah. Well, I may have asked Kiri for some help cutting the fruits. And Lo’ak assisted me in bringing everything up here…” He trailed off once he saw your sudden unamused expression, most likely due to the fact that he always struggles to take credit for the sweet things he does. He cleared his throat, rephrasing his answer. “Yes, I did it for you.” He grinned.

Your hands came up to cup his flushed face, yellow orbs overflowing with adoration for the man in front of you. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever thought to do for me, I-“ Your sentence came to a halt and your hands slowly retracted from his face upon remembering something that still hadn’t been addressed.

He noticed your demeanor change, bringing his hands up to stop yours from falling completely. “I talked to my parents,” Somehow he was able to answer the question that was lingering in your mind, without you even having to say it out loud. “They’re letting me choose now. I can choose my mate.” He repeated, making sure you didn’t miss a single word he was saying.

“That’s good.” You smiled at him sadly, not being able to help your gaze falling to the side to avoid looking at him.

He rolled his eyes at you in a joking manner, hooking a finger under your chin to tilt your head back up at him. “And I choose you, sxkawng.”

“You can’t,” You shook your head, feeling betrayed by your own mouth at the words it picked as a response. “I am not a healer, Neteyam. Or a hunter. I don’t have what it takes to be Tsahik. I can’t-“

“No,” He cut you off before you could finish, like the words angered him to even listen to. “You don’t need to be anything other than yourself, [Y/n]. Do you not remember how you single-handedly managed to save our village tonight? You have proved yourself plenty, trust me.” He rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb. “You are so much more than special, and you always have been. Especially to me.” His tone comforting and leaking with affection, he used his other hand to caress your cheek while he reassured you.

“Neteyam….” You melted into his touch and leaned against his hand, feeling all the uncertainty you held for yourself slip away.

He went to tuck one of your front strands behind your ear to get a better look at your face, then he paused. Watching his expression change, his eyebrows furrowed as he peered at what was woven in on the ends. “These beads,” He stared intently, deep in thought while he rolled one between his index finger and his thumb to try and spark a memory. “I feel like I have seen them before.”

Your mind instantly flashed back to when you had pushed through the circle to stop the Palulukan, remembering that you were still holding the necklace when you came into his line of sight. “Oh!” You quickly reached behind you to grab your small pouch, lifting the strap over and off your shoudlers then opening it and sifting through the contents. He watched curiously, his eyes illuminating when you revealed a necklace made of the same beads that were in your hair.

His mouth opened but you were already explaining before he could ask. “I-it’s for you. I was gonna give it to you, at the festival. But then I saw you with her and everything started happening so I-“

He delicately took it into his hands, tilting his head to the side to get a better look. His head was dropped down as he studied it and silence that weighed in the air began to worry you.

“You don’t like it?” Your voice was quiet and your sweating palms indicated how nervous you truly were.

His strong arms suddenly pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly. You were shocked at his unforeseen actions but ultimately had zero complaints. “I love it.” He whispered, pulling away to look at you with one of the most genuine smiles you’ve ever seen on his face. “You made this for me?” He sounded like he couldn’t believe it.

You quickly nodded, still trying to gather your thoughts. “Well, it was my idea, but I was on a time crunch so my mom-“ You stopped yourself, seeing the same kind of look on his face you had given him earlier when he went off on a tangent to discredit his efforts. The both of you were thrown into a fit of laughter at the moment of deja-vu. “Yes, I made it for you.”

You took the necklace back into your hands, motioning it towards him as a silent offer to help him put it on. He obliged, using a hand to hold his braids up and out of the way.

You licked your bottom lip and sat up on your knees, realizing now that you had accidentally volunteered yourself to get closer to him. You moved your body in his direction, not missing the way his eyes tracked every movement you conducted. You brought your hands apart and circled them around his neck, trying your hardest not to think about the way his breath was fanning against your shoulder, his lips lightly grazing it. You felt his gaze boring into your face, the pace of your heart increasing as you fiddled with the clasp before fastening it.

“There, all done.” You mumbled, allowing your hands to trail against the skin from the back of his neck down to the front of his chest. As you pulled away it was impossible to hide from his stare, your eyes connecting with his. The both of you sat there for a beat, simply looking into each other’s eyes until he decided to make the first move. He leaned forward, stopping inches from your face. Your breath shuddered, his eyes falling from yours, to your lips, then back up again.

“Can I kiss you?” He breathed out, his fingers brushed against your sides, eager to hold you but wanting to wait until he had your permission.

God, you thought he’d never ask.

He took you falling in to close the remaining space between your lips as a prompt yes. Your eyes fluttered to a close the moment your lips met, your arms ribboning around his neck to bring him closer. His hands followed suit and grappled onto your waist, his right arm hooking around your back to pull you up and into his lap as the kiss deepened almost instantly.

You broke for air after a few seconds, raking your hands into his braids when he quickly became too impatient to wait for you to catch your breath. You held his head whilst he placed featherweight kisses along your jaw, mindlessly craning your head to the side to grant him further admittance to your sensitive skin.

You nuzzled your cheek against the top of his braids, not being able to stop yourself from inhaling deeply to take in his scent. You felt his lips latch and suck on the skin of your collarbone, gasping at the feeling and knowing it would for sure leave a mark. Biting your lip to contain your voice, you drew your body away from his.

His head snapped up to look at you, fearful that he had done something you didn’t like or made you uncomfortable in any way.

His worries were extinguished once taking in the wanting look on your face, eyeing carefully when you reached back to grab your long braid and pull it forward. He followed suit, eagerly bringing his own to present it to you. The ends of your queues unveiled from the hair that protected them once in close proximity with each other.

“[Y/n], we will be mated for life if we do this.” He started, not wanting to rush you into a decision just in case this wasn’t truly what you wanted.

You placed a reassuring kiss on his lips, pressing your forehead against his once you pulled away. “I promise, Nete’. I want this.”

The two of you brought your hands closer, your queues grasping onto each other and intertwining to make Tsaheylu. Your breath caught in your throat and your eyes closed, your body trying to adjust to the new feeling that had been gifted to you. It was as if you could now feel everything he was feeling, think everything he was thinking. You felt the immense love he held for you all these years coarse through your veins. He had already told you this, but feeling it was something completely new, a foreign sensation you didn’t know you could crave this badly until now. Neteyam’s head hung below you, and based on the short, uneven breaths that could be heard from him paired with his chest rising and falling— you knew he felt it too.

He finally raised his head to look at you, his hands tenderly rubbing up and down the sides of your body. You allowed your back to be pressed against the soft blanket beneath you as he switched the position the two of you were in, meeting your lips again. His lips chased yours every time he felt you pull away, and with each kiss his lips transferred the burning desire he had onto you. Your mouth parted instinctively when his warm tongue swiped at your bottom lip and you gladly allowed it in, hands fervently grasping onto each other in attempt to be closer than you already were. You smoothed over his chiseled back, fidgeting under him slightly at the heat you felt starting to grow deep in your core while his wandering hands served as further ammunition.

You had no idea where he learned how to do all this but you were so far from a complaint that you wouldn’t even be able to hear if it yelled your name. The two of you kissed like it would be your last, lips melded together to confirm it had been a mistake that they were apart all these years.

“‘Teyam…” You softly moaned against his lips, his ears flicking in delight at the way you called his name. You trailed a hand down his torso, fingers rolling over his abs and feeling them tense at your touch. You rapidly felt yourself growing impatient, your back arching off the ground and your heaving chest coming in contact with his.

His large hand squeezed the plush area where your thigh met your hip, lifting your leg to wrap around his waist securely then dragging his hand back up to continue loving on your heated, dark blue skin. A finger finally slipped under the string of your loincloth and with one swift motion it could be lost and forgotten for the night. His heart was beating against his chest so hard he swore you could hear it. He didn’t bother to open his eyes, but simply hovered his lips over yours with enough room for you to speak.

“Do you want me to stop?” His tone was gruff and deep, tail swishing in delight as he could already feel what the answer was against his leg.

“Please don’t.” You panted out whatever would use up the least time, not wanting his lips to leave yours for more than a second and using your hand at the back of his neck to pull him right back down into you.

~~~

You were glad tonight would be a warm one, seeing as the two of you wouldn’t be moving from this spot anytime soon. Where in the world he had tossed your garments was a problem to be saved for the morning.

Even if you actually wanted to move, you couldn’t. Neteyam’s arms were wrapped so tightly around you, as if you would slip right through his fingers if he let up in the slightest. Not to mention that you were sure the minute you’d try to stand up, the stability of your legs would automatically succeed in embarrassing you.

You couldn’t exactly see just how marked up the skin surrounding your neck and chest looked, but brief flashbacks of him nipping at where he’d noticed other men ogling at before pretty much told you that you were in for a treat. Your mother would probably faint if she saw you like this, so you’d make sure to stop and get some yahlnabark in the morning to tend to the bruising before home.

Neither you or Neteyam had taken it upon yourselves to break Tsaheylu, wanting to relish in the unfamiliar feeling of comfort it brought. Enjoying your hearts beating as one, you cuddled closer to him while your queues lay connected between your exhausted bodies.

You spent your time afterwards threading your fingers through his hair and against his scalp, appreciating every part of him. The both of you took turns feeding the other pieces of fruit, easily resembling a cliche married couple on their honeymoon and giggling at yourselves for it, completely lovestruck.

“You are so beautiful… Did I tell you that already?” He twirled the strands of your hair along his fingers, his elbow propping him up and his eyes utterly mesmerized as they trailed from your head to your toes over and over again. He had said it so many times already that you were starting to forget your own name.

You cheesed, nodding your head while he continued to delve into how gorgeous you looked for the umpteenth time regardless of your answer.

The twinkling stars in the sky above begged for your attention, but all your eyes could focus on was him. The way his face lit up when he spoke of something that excited him, the sound of his voice when he laughed at his own corny jokes. You could listen to him go on and on for hours. You lived for it all and didn’t want to miss any of it.

“I won’t disappear, you know,” He chuckled at your melancholy expression, planting a prolonged kiss on your cheek that made your heart skip a beat. “Not this time.” He assured, lifting the back of your hand to kiss your knuckles.

This was definitely something to get used to. Him displaying his love for you so openly as well as literally being able to tell what was on your mind.

“I know that, but I can’t take any chances. I miss you already and you’re right here in front of me.” You pouted, not being able to stop it from transforming into a sheepish smile.

After a while of laying together he started to doze off, his slowed breathing indicating as such. He had tried to keep himself awake for as long as he could, going to sit back up every time he felt his eyes begin to close and swearing that he wasn’t tired. You had to hammer it into his head that you would remain next to him; that if he fell asleep you would still be here in his arms when he woke up. He eventually fell asleep with his head on your chest, his arms maintaining a concrete hold on your body to make sure you would keep your promise. With his tail loosely wrapped around your thigh, indistinct, quiescent snores could be heard from who you had come to love so deeply over the years.

You wished he had been awake so you could poke fun at his possessive behavior. Every time you moved so much as an inch from him, just to see what he would do, he stirred from his slumber and pulled you back flush against him with a muffled, exhausted grunt in protest. The sensation of your heated skin pressed close to his was enough for him to let his guard down and rest without worry, even if it were just for tonight. He knew he still had hardships to face, but the fact that you would be there by his side through it all helped erase all feelings concern. The man who spent his entire life protecting everyone could now bask in the same treatment. One night with you was all that was needed to heal all of his wounds. The confirmation that he now had you as his mate for the rest of his life, and in the next, aided in keeping him sound asleep.

Though it was most likely the influx of newfangled emotions washing over you, you couldn’t help but grow emotional while watching him sleep so soundly. In all your years of knowing Neteyam, you had never seen him more at peace than he was with you in this very moment. The space between his eyebrows held no weight, his shoulders no tension. His body and mind were completely relaxed for the first time in forever.

Trailing your fingers over the necklace you had made him, you chewed your lip to stop your grin from enveloping you as you remembered the way he had peppered your face with endless kisses just a bit ago, thanking you over and over again for such a thoughtful and sincere gift. He swore the only way he would take it off is if it broke, and even then he would come to you and have you fix it.

You listened to the distant sounds of the forest tucking itself in for the night, insects humming, the leaves on the trees gently swishing when the occasional breeze would pass. If someone had told you just two weeks ago that you and Neteyam would be mated for life, you would have laughed in their face. You couldn’t believe you had gone from being his secret admirer to the love of his life right before your eyes.

You vowed to always support him and love him unconditionally. You would never again allow him to feel less than he was- a beautiful, strong, humble man deserving of all the love he craved and more. You gazed down at him as you felt sleep creeping up on you, brushing the loose hairs from his forehead and seeing the corners of his mouth unconsciously turn up into a subtle smile.

“I see you, Ma Neteyam.” You whispered, eyes softly flittering to a close.

a/n: And that’s a wrap ladies and gents. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! ☺️

Please like + reblog if you can, they are greatly appreciated 💗

tag list ⬇️ (if you’re not here your blog didn’t pop up + tumblr only allows me to add 50 names!)

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all-mirth-no-matter · 10 months

Text

Time After Time | Chapter Eleven

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: You join the Shelbys for Christmas Eve dinner.

Warning: language, alcohol, smoking, ethnic slur, heavy fluff, probably bad retelling of Greek history don’t come at me

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 11: Dazed & Confused

I bet you know just what you’re doing. You’re not the type that’s used to losing. First you build me up, then with just a touch, leave me here in ruins. Something ‘bout your eyes, I can’t even walk in a straight line, under the influence. Oh, I’ve been dazed and confused, from the day I met you. Yeah, I lost my head, and I’d do it again. Either I’ve seen the light, or I’m losing my mind. There’s something ‘bout you, that’s got me dazed and confused. — Dazed & Confused, Ruel

God you felt so stupid. It wasn’t like you were a stranger to this house — hell, even a stranger to having dinner at this house. But after meeting Tommy, it didn’t feel like just having dinner at a friend’s place anymore. Would this nervous feeling ever go away?

You’d gone all out for this special occasion, with Ada’s help after you’d expressed your nerves. She’d been far too giddy for your liking over your anxiety. But you let her take you shopping that morning and helped you tame your hair and even refrained from fighting her when she shoved a deep red lipstick into your hands after claiming that it was too dark for her to wear.

Your hair had to be re-managed after your shift at the pub that afternoon. Apparently, Harry closed the place for Christmas Eve night. You thought that was a mistake, surely men were looking for some drunken solace after the children had gone to bed, but you bit your tongue at Harry’s excitement and accepted the extra time off.

After the age of twelve, Christmases in your house had become a less-than-joyful time of year for you. It felt like a switch — one year you were a happy kid surrounded by excited parents drinking hot cocoa and waiting for Father Christmas — and then the next you were fighting over hanging tree lights, complaining about going out into the crowded malls, sitting in three separate rooms of the house to numb yourself with whatever was on the TV at the time. The littlest things would set off your mother, leaving you either raging with anger or crying in the garage waiting for your father to get home.

The magic had disappeared along with your childhood. And it only got worse after your father died. You’d been reckless those first couple years, sneaking out any chance you got to run around town with your friends. When you left for college, you selfishly dreaded coming home during the breaks. That’s when your mother’s psychosis started to get worse.

Looking back, you couldn’t help but wonder if your mother hadn’t been alone for all that time, if she’d had someone to confide in or even just to talk to, if her sanity could have been salvaged, even just a little. But deep down you always assumed it was something darker going on inside her that made her act the way she did. By the end, if she wasn’t numb, she was crying, and you just had no idea how to handle her.

After her death, you simply avoided holidays, always volunteering to work the extra shifts or treat it as if they were any other days of the week.

Since arriving in 1918, you’d been so preoccupied with surviving, with trying to figure out what was going on, the idea of Christmas or any other holiday had been nonexistent. Which is why you’d been surprised at Tommy’s (or technically Ada’s) invitation to a Christmas Eve dinner.

Fidgeting with your dress, you stood nervously at the doorstep and knocked. Behind the door, you could hear the sound of voices and pots banging, even a gramophone playing.

The door swung open to reveal Ada, shouting her hello before pulling you inside for a warm hug. You chuckled at your friend, who clearly had been enjoying some pre-dinner drinks, and walked further into the house.

The betting shop doors were open, the tables that usually hosted piles of books, papers, and money now cleared and replaced with plates, napkins, and silverware. You took a scan at the guests around, surprised at the number of people here.

You recognized a few of them — the two men who’d been with Tommy and his brothers last night at the Garrison, Benji, and the man who stood out on the streets preaching. Then there was Martha sitting near the fire with Polly at her side, looking better but still not completely on the mend. Finn ran past you, shouting as the older of John’s kids chased after him. The rest of the men in the room you didn’t recognize.

“Y/N!” Polly shouted, finally noticing your arrival as she left Martha and pulled you in for a hug. It appeared she’d also been indulging in some pre-dinner drinks, this being the most affection she’d ever shown you. “Let me get you a drink and then introduce you.”

She shoved a glass of something brown in your hands, a quick sniff indicating it as whiskey, and began to walk you around the room, starting unfortunately with the group of men Benji was with.

“Lovelock, Scudboat, and Hancock, this is Y/N. A family friend and barmaid at the Garrison. She’s under our protection, so you know what that means.”

“Aye ma’am,” Scudboat smiled, nodding his head respectfully before lifting his hand. “Nice to meet you, miss.”

You smiled genuinely at the man, already appreciating his vibe. Lovelock didn’t offer any words, but nodded and gave you a smile and handshake as well.

Hancock, or Benji as he’d introduced himself to you as, gave you a smirk. “We met last night,” he said suggestively, lingering his hand around yours longer than you thought was appropriate. “But it’s good to see you again.”

You didn’t respond, pulling your hand away and instead offering a polite smile. Luckily, Polly pulled you away to work the room.

Jeremiah was the name of the preacher, accompanied with his young son, Isaiah. You were curious how he fit in with the group, but saved your questions for another time.

Charlie and Curly worked at the Yard down by the Cut. You realized this must have been the ‘Uncle Charlie’ that Tommy mentioned the other night. They were both quiet, but nice. Curly was beginning to ask you if you liked horses, but Polly shoo’d him before pulling you along to the next man.

Danny Owens, or Whizz-Bang as he mentioned everyone called him, said he could only stay for a drink before going home to his wife and kids. He was fidgeting with his hat, muttering something about wishing Freddie or Barney could be there. Obviously you recognized Freddie’s name and wondered if you’d finally get to meet Ada’s mystery man. It wasn’t the case though as you finished the rounds of introductions.

A shout of the men behind you caused you and Polly to turn, seeing Arthur and John enter the room. They welcomed everyone around them with a loud greeting. You kept your eyes on the doorway, waiting for the one family member who had not yet arrived.

As if on cue with your thoughts, Tommy walked into the room quietly, leaning against the door edge to watch the scene. His eyes scanned the room until they fell to you. The corner of his mouth rose in that familiar resilient smirk, obviously unused to being caught doing his surveillance. He gave a subtle nod over his shoulder before pushing off and turning toward the family room.

Your heart raced a little as you took the bait, excusing yourself and grabbing your drink before walking across the betting shop floor. When you walked through the door into the family room, you heard the gentle shut of the door behind you, but your eyes were transfixed on the tree in front of you.

You’d noticed it when you first walked in, but now, the simple Christmas tree was lit with candles tied at the end of its branches.

The last time you saw a Christmas tree lit up, it’d been multicolored and flashed like a bad shop neon sign, glued to the plastic thistle of a fake tree. The sight of it at the time had made you groan at the very idea of the holiday you dreaded, thinking about all the money that was wasted during this time of year on stupid decorations like that one and worthless presents that would just end up in the garbage in a month.

But this. The real fire dancing on the wicks, sending beautiful shadows across the whole room against the lush pine leaves. It was enough to take your breath away.

“We lit it just now with the kids.” Tommy’s deep voice behind you brought you out of your trance as you felt him move to your side. “We’ll re-light it again before they go to bed.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is,” he replied as you finally looked over to him, his eyes already on you. The implication of his words and that look made you blush.

You bit your lip as you shook your head and the possible compliment off. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” you found yourself admitting.

Tommy’s brow creased. “Do they not have Christmas trees in America?”

“Um, they do. Just not decorated with real candles,” you replied, not exactly lying but not responding with the whole truth.

You weren’t entirely sure when electric tree lights would be invented, or common place, even. To avoid further questioning, you asked one of your own, a genuine query you couldn’t help but wonder now that the bewilderment had faded.

“Does the tree ever catch on fire?”

He chuckled softly, “Yeah it has. That’s why we only light it for a little while each night, usually before the kids go to bed. This year it hasn’t yet, surprisingly. But the year before we left, Finn was tryin’ to light it for John’s kids and lit the whole bottom row on fire. Luckily Pol was there to put it out before the house caught.”

You were watching him as he told the story before he let a short breath out his nose and a crinkle in the corner of his eyes, as if reminding himself of his own memory had been a pleasant surprise.

He cleared his throat, his smile returning back to his neutral expression as he busied himself with pulling his cigarette box out of his pocket and lifting out a stick. He ran it between his lips before lighting the end, the action causing you to lick your own lips before you remembered something.

“I, um — I got you a gift,” you said, feeling suddenly very embarrassed.

He paused at your words, his brow creased as he watched you pull a small box out of the handbag you’d been carrying.

“A gift?” He repeated, turning his body away from the tree and toward you.

You shrugged, trying to shoo away your nerves. “Yeah, ya’know, it’s Christmas. It’s not anything super fancy, but saw it this morning when Ada took me shopping and I just, I don’t know, I thought you might like it. Sorry it’s not wrapped,” you lifted the box and offered it to him.

Tommy took it tentatively, his brow hooked as he examined the plain cardboard. “You didn’t have to,” he said, not yet opening it.

“I know. It’s just — it’s a thank you,” you finally spat out, your eyes chancing a look up to meet his, “for everything.”

His brow was still creased as he looked down, and your embarrassment and stupidity reached it’s peak as you realized how much of a mistake this probably was.

Did people not get each other gifts in the 1900s? Ada hadn’t said anything when you picked it out and asked if she thought this was something Tommy might like. She had given you a shit eating grin, but hadn’t deterred you or told you you were being weird.

“I’m sorry,” you found yourself saying, turning away from him to try and hide how red your face was. “You don’t have to use it, you don’t even have to open it, I’ll just take it back and we’ll pretend this never happened—“

“Y/N,” Tommy’s voice said softly, causing you to look back over at him, the box open on the table and the cigarette case now in his hand.

It was a simple case, minimal decoration around the border, but the minute you saw it, it made you think of Tommy and his damn cigarettes. Part of you wanted to get it engraved, something snarky about killing his lungs — but you could only afford the case, so you got it on a whim. It’d definitely been more than you could afford, but it was the holidays, you reasoned. You’d start saving again next week.

Tommy tested the case, using his thumb to click the flap open, then closed it again. He did that a couple times before letting out a humored breath out of his nose, the corner of his cheek rising as he pulled out his box and moved a few sticks into the case.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely as his eyes found yours, lifting up the case to emphasize before smiling back down at it. “It’s the best Christmas gift I’ve gotten in years.”

You swallowed, dropping your head as your cheeks reddened again. The feel of his fingers against your cheek caused you to lift your head again, not realizing he’d gotten so close. Your eyes found his, serious and soulful as he peered down at you, the light from the candles dancing off the glassy orbs. God, he was beautiful.

A bang on the door caused you to jump before stepping away. Polly shouted from the other side, instructing you both that dinner was ready and to get our asses out there.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Every time.”

Tommy met your laugh with his own softer one as you turned toward the door. Before you could reach it, he grabbed your arm and spun you back toward him, pulling your body against his as his lips crashed against yours.

He wrapped the hand still holding your gift and his lit cigarette around you to curve your body against his, his other hand raking through the base of your head and neck, nearly lifting you up to meet his hunger. Without a second thought, your own hands found themselves around his shoulders as you clung to him, your kiss matching his eagerness. You tilted your head and opened your mouth just enough for him to dive in deeper, breathing in sharply through his nose as you let out a needy moan.

Fuck the dinner, screw all the people on the other side of the door. You’d let him take you right here on the couch, on the floor, you didn’t care. All you cared about was his hard body against yours, his hands gripping at you, his mouth and where else it could consume you.

When you found your feet flat on the ground again, he pulled his lips away just enough before giving you another slow kiss, then another, before pulling away completely.

He smiled as you caught your breath, still surprised and slightly disoriented from the action. You thought he was going to kiss you again as he brought his hand back to your cheek, but instead he used his thumb to rub what must have been smeared lipstick off your face. A pathetic whimper left your throat at the disappointment.

“Better not keep Pol waiting,” he said easily, adjusting his suit and sliding his new cigarette case in his jacket pocket before pulling out a handkerchief and wiping his own lips. You watched as the white fabric turned red from your lipstick and smirked, thinking of other scenarios where you could leave pieces of you with him throughout the day.

He noticed your look and rose a brow as you licked your lips, shooing those ideas away for more socially appropriate ones as he opened and held the door open for you.

Ada and Martha were helping to set the table when you joined them, grabbing two plates from Polly before adding them to the make-shift dinner table. Once every seat was served, Ada pulled you into a chair next to her. You looked at the head of the table, expecting to see Tommy but surprisingly it was Arthur who stood up and rose his glass. To his right sat Tommy, then John and Martha; to his left was Polly, then Ada and you.

Arthur cleared his throat, causing everyone to quiet and turn their attention to him.

“Um,” Arthur cleared it again, pulling down at his vest as he fidgeted. “I um, I’m not much for speeches. But um, I wanted to— wanted to thank you. This year— these years, being away, it’s been—“ his voice chocked as he looked toward Tommy.

Tommy smiled up at his brother and stood, gripping Arthur’s shoulder as he held up his own glass. “It’s been good to be back,” Tommy said simply, finishing Arthur’s prompt, possibly not in the same direction Arthur was heading, but a good detour to keep the moment light. He continued to keep his arm on his brother’s shoulder, as he addressed the rest of the room. “We all know the hardships and blessings we’ve been dealt, this year especially. And soon, it’ll be a new year. A fresh start. This is our opportunity to seize, and we’ll be damned if we’re going to let it slip.” His eyes flicked to you before rising his drink higher. “A toast, a simple toast, ya brotha’?” He pulled Arthur closer as he chuckled, rising his own glass higher with his brothers. “To good fortune, good health, good horses! Happy Christmas!”

“By order of the Peaking fuckin’ Blinders,” Arthur added, his voice strong again.

Everyone exploded with cheers as they raised their own glasses and shouted “Happy Christmas!”

The night went on as everyone ate and talked. You were enjoying the dinner, laughing as you watched the family dynamic between the core Shelbys as they enjoyed each others company. Everyone’s inhibitions and guards seemed to be set aside tonight, giving you what you assumed was a rare glimpse at what dinners pre-war must have been like for the group.

On the other side of you sat Charlie and Curly, and you were grateful that Benji had been placed at the end of the other side of the table, just far enough so that easy conversation wasn’t possible. But you felt his eyes on you, causing you to shift in your seat every now and then when you’d catch his gaze. After the second time it happened, you found yourself sighing, knowing you’d have to have an awkward conversation at some point with him to convince him you weren’t interested.

The dinner party was winding down, with most of its guests already gone. Even Ada had given you a kiss on the cheek before whispering that she was sneaking out. She wiggled her eye brows, causing you to roll you eyes and shove her away, whispering your own ‘be safe’ back at her.

Of course, Benji took the opportunity to swoop in to fill the opening.

“Your first Christmas in Small Heath?”

You nodded, taking a sip to keep your mouth busy.

“I’ve always liked winter over summer. Sure, it gets bone cold, but there’s less smoke in the air during the winter,” he mused, topping off his own glass and offering to do the same for you.

“That so?”

He shrugged, “Dunno, just feels like it, I guess. Maybe it’s more to do with the days being shorter.”

You nodded, slightly surprised at the insight. “Could be.”

“Do you have to go back to the Garrison tonight?”

You coughed at his unexpected turn in subject. “Um, no, Harry closed the pub for Christmas Eve.”

“So you’re free, then? We could go get a drink—“

“We have a drink,” you replied, holding up your glass. “And we’re guests at a party.”

“Come on, no one would miss us if we left—“

Scudboat appeared behind Benji, dropping a weighted hand to his shoulder. “Gotta go, Hancock.”

Benji’s brow creased as he scoffed. “Now?”

“Aye, it’s Russel. Just got the order.”

Benji huffed, “It’s Christmas Eve. Can’t we do this after the holiday?”

“You know the drill. It’ll hurt his family more to see that face Christmas morning. Will make him think twice next time. Tommy’s orders. Now!”

Scudboat left you both as Benji turned back toward you, blowing a big breath out of his nose as he cursed under his breath. “No rest for a Blinder.”

No rest for the wicked, you found yourself thinking, your tongue too tied to say the words aloud. Russel — you recognized the name of a copper from the family books. He’d been one of the more recent discrepancies you’d alerted. And now he was going to get beat up, or cut, on Christmas Eve.

And it was on Tommy’s orders. You swallowed down a big gulp of your drink as Benji said his farewell.

“Ready?”

Tommy’s voice behind you caused you to jump startled. You turned to face him, his own expression seemed slightly perturbed as he watched the Peaky boys leave the shop.

“Ready for what?” Your voice wasn’t as strong as it normally was, feeling both caught off guard as well as slightly uneasy about the darker side of Tommy.

It wasn’t like you were an idiot. You knew this came with the territory. Tommy Shelby was a gangster, as much as he wanted to call himself a businessman. Violence was as much a currency of this business as money. And here you were, contributing to that violence.

But you knew the world you were now a part of wasn’t that simple. Maybe this copper deserved it, maybe he didn’t. If you were going to be a part of this company, you’d have to trust the people making the calls, even if it went against your own moral code.

Did you even have a moral code anymore? Were you just making excuses?

“To talk, like I promised,” he replied, his eyes finally moving back to you. “Unless you’d rather join Hancock.”

His jealousy caused you to chuckle, despite your prior thoughts. “I told you last night I wasn’t interested in him.”

He hummed, “Maybe you ought to tell that to him then, eh? This way,” he placed his hand to your back as he directed you back toward the house.

You noticed him exchange a look with Polly before leaving the room.

“Where are we going?” You asked hesitantly as he directed you toward the stairs.

He didn’t answer you, instead taking the lead as he brought you to the top of the stairs and opened the door. “My room.”

The room was small and plain. A bed even smaller than yours in the corner, a nightstand, a chair, a dresser, and a fireplace. The decor was also minimum: a mirror hung at the head of the bed, a lit lamp on the nightstand, a crucifix on the wall by the door, and a few other photos and paintings dispersed between the walls, nightstand, and fireplace, which was also already lit.

The air smelled different in the room. There was something else, in addition to the outside air, sweat, and cigarettes that you’d grown used to. Your eyes searched for a source, but gave up when Tommy closed the door behind him.

“You’re not worried someone will hear?” You asked as Tommy chose to sit in the chair by the nightstand, leaving you to either continue standing or sit on the bed.

“This room is pretty sound proof, long as we don’t do any shouting. The other guests will leave through the betting shop doors. They won’t stay for long, Pol knows that we’re here and will clear them all out soon enough and lock up behind ‘em. I’ll walk you home when we’re done,” he said, pulling out the cigarette case.

He pulled out another stick and ran it across his lips, causing you to lick your own and making you fully aware that you were finally alone in a bedroom. God, your stupid libido. First you were questioning your own morality, and now all you wanted to do was jump his bones.

“Did you, um — did you drink the tea yet?”

Your eyes flicked back toward him, surprised at his question. “That where you want to start?”

He shrugged, lifting up the case before setting it gently on the nightstand. “I hadn’t intended, but in the spirit of gift giving, seems as good a place as any.”

You turned away from him, anxiously avoiding his question by continuing to examine the room and get your mind out of the gutter. The box in question was currently sitting in your dresser drawer, shoved in there after you’d finally unpacked so you wouldn’t have to look at it.

“And why not?” Tommy followed-up, taking your silence as a no.

You shook your head, taking a deep breath before answering, “I have to think about it. I’m convinced it’ll either give me a seizure or just end up being a really bad cup of tea — both of which I believe will happen before it lets me talk with the dead.”

“Perhaps you should talk to Pol. She’s always been more in tune with that side of things, she could offer you some guidance.”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, still unconvinced.

“We’ll revisit that another time, eh. Where is it that you want to start, then?” He asked.

Your mouth felt dry as you tried to consider your options. Honestly, you’d expected Tommy to take the lead in this debrief, almost demanding answers or explanations. You hadn’t expected him to hand you the reigns, and you found yourself struggling to get a grip.

He was watching you as you considered his question, refusing to speak first. You took a gulp of your drink before finally sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“My nightmares — the two dreams that I had in the wagon, I’ve never had dreams like those before. I’ve had realistic dreams before. Mundane or stress-induced dreams where I’m living out my normal day and then wake up and can’t believe I have to do it all again. I’ve had dreams of memories, replaying of certain events. Hell, I’ve even lucid dreamed, where I recognized a dream I’d had before and been able to change the dream. But I have never in my life had dreams like the ones I had in that wagon.”

Tommy’s eyes flicked toward the wall across from him, some recognition in your words. If you hadn’t been so lost in your own recounting, you might have picked up on it, but instead you continued on.

“It felt so real — more than a memory, like I was actually standing in that garden, feeling the wind against my face. But it wasn’t my memory. It wasn’t me. It was like I was watching and feeling the memory of another.”

“Whose?”

You swallowed before looking back up at Tommy. “I think I was dreaming about the story of Cassandra and Apollo.”

You left out the part where in your dreams Apollo just happened to look exactly like Tommy, just with golden eyes. The logical part of you knew that your brain was just inserting what it knew into the dream. Wasn’t it a known fact in your time that people only saw the faces of those they knew in their dreams? That’s all it was, you told yourself.

Tommy took a long drag of his cigarette. “You goin’ to explain who those people are, or just leave me in the dark?”

“Do you know much about Greek mythology?” you asked, trying to gauge how to approach this.

Tommy shook his head. You took a moment to collect yourself, your brain ready to jump into explanation and story telling mode. This was one of your favorite subjects, after all. You took a sip of your drink before leaning against the wall, making yourself more comfortable on the bed.

“Where I’m from—” you started, swallowing as you decided to stop trying to hide the little details of your life — if you were going to do this, you might as well dive in. “I got to learn about it in school, mostly in language arts or social studies. I asked a teacher once why we were taught Greek over other mythologies, like Norse or any Asian religion — she seemed to believe it was because of the influence the Ancient Greek, and then Roman, society had over Europe, which then influenced Western civilization. There’s written records on top of word-of-mouth story telling that has lasted tens of thousands of years. And the influence they still have on philosophy, architecture, military, governance, agriculture, medicine — hell, even the word alphabet is Greek for alpha and beta, the first two letters of the Greek alphabet. Shakespeare wrote plays based on the mythology, Renaissance artists created masterpieces in an attempt to bring it to life. She said it was close to the same reason we learned about Medieval stories even though there’s no historical truth to King Arthur and Camelot. But we all learned them. And it started with literature.”

Tommy blew a puff of smoke, seemingly unimpressed with your pretense. “Ok.”

“Two of the oldest works of literature that’s still widely referenced are Homer’s epic poems — the Iliad and the Odyssey. The stories are pretty significant because of their themes about fate, glory, heroism, pride, wrath. And there’s so many phrases that originated or were inspired by the stories: an Achilles heel, Trojan horse, a face that launched a thousand ships, stuck between a rock and a hard place—”

“You’re losin’ me, Y/N.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’m just — I’m trying to figure out how to make it make sense. The Iliad tells the story of the Trojan war, a ten-year battle between the ancient cities of Troy and Sparta, mostly focusing on the abduction of the Spartan Queen Helen, and the hero Achilles who was recruited to help save her. That’s a crazy oversimplification of the story, and honestly I’ve read so many retellings I’m not even certain on the actual story anymore. But it’s really quite interesting if you want to hear about it some time — I think you would especially find the character of Achilles interesting—”

“Y/N,” Tommy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he waved his hand along. “Madam Despoina said you were named after a Trojan princess. That was Cassandra, ya?”

The sound of Tommy saying your middle name out loud for the first time made your chest tighten.

You nodded, avoiding the feeling. “A Trojan prince was the one who stole Helen, the Queen of Sparta, so the Spartans and the Greeks attacked Troy to get her back. Cassandra was a Trojan princess who was also a priestess.”

Tommy hummed, “And you said that God gave her the gift of prophecy, but then He wanted to fuck her and she refused.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his retelling. “Something like that. But the Greeks didn’t believe in just one God, they had a pantheon of gods, goddesses, titans, and other creatures who all had roles they played in the creation and general day-to-day motion of the world and its people. One of those gods was Apollo.”

He leaned back in his chair, “The god Madam Despoina kept going on about.”

“Exactly. He was the god of, well, a lot of things — but he’s mostly tied to references of the Sun and light. He’s also the god of music, the arts, medicine, archery, town building, and prophecy.”

“And that’s where the Delphi come in?”

“Yep. They were priestesses who spoke his word at his temple, where people would travel from all over for a consult with the oracles. The Greeks considered this temple to be the center of the world.”

“So the princess wouldn’t fuck this god Apollo, so he cursed her. Why not just take back the gift?”

“A common myth is that a god couldn’t undo the work of another god, even their own work. So when Cassandra wouldn’t sleep with him, he couldn’t take back his gift of prophecy. He cursed her instead. She had no choice but accurately predict the future, but no one would believe her. Throughout the war, she tried to warn the Trojans, her family, of the dangers of their actions, but they couldn’t believe. Eventually, the visions of disaster and frustrations of being called a liar and madwoman drove her insane.”

“Why didn’t she just lie? Say the opposite and then they’d believe her?”

You shrugged, smiling at hearing the same question you’d asked your own teacher. “I don’t think she could lie. I don’t think she could even stop herself from telling the prophecies, otherwise I don’t see why she wouldn’t have just shut up early on.”

“What happened to her?”

“She predicted the fall of Troy, and the deaths of her family, we well as her own death. Before that, during the siege, she was raped, and then given away as a concubine to one of the Greek Kings. She and the King were then killed by the Queen and her lover.”

“And what happened to Helen?” he asked, genuinely curious it seemed to the story.

“In Homer’s story, Paris, the Trojan prince who kidnapped her gets killed along with most of the rest of his family, and she’s reunited with her Spartan husband.”

“Lucky her.”

You scoffed, “Comparatively, I guess.”

“Does the story match up with your dreams?”

“Kind of. In the stories, it’s always implied that either Cassandra promised that she’d sleep with him in exchange for the gift and then refused when he came to collect, or that she didn’t promise him and he just assumed that she’d give herself to him if he gave her the gift. Madam Despoina seemed to imply that there was another side to the story.”

“Which is?”

“In my dreams so far, it seems like maybe they actually both were in love with each other. But then something shifts and he’s cursing me— her. And that’s when I wake up.”

“That explains why you kept saying you were cursed,” Tommy mused, taking another sip of his own glass before reaching for the bottle that was already on the nightstand and refilling it. He offered to refill your own glass, which you accepted. “And the main question — what does that all have to do with you?”

You took a deep breath, taking a big gulp of your drink, the warm liquid burning down your throat. “I think Madam Despoina thinks that my mother named me after the Cassandra from this story. It seemed like she was implying that I’m a descendant of Cassandra, or I don’t know, maybe a reincarnation? Both of which are ridiculous.”

Tommy’s brow creased, “Why?”

You shook your head, flopping down to lay flat on the bed, setting your glass on the nightstand. “Because it’s just a story, it isn’t even real! Homer wrote the Iliad like hundreds, maybe thousands of years after the war would have happened. If it even did at all. There’s some evidence of civilization in the area Troy is thought to have been, and even some evidence of war I think, but still. Now, the odds of Madam Despoina being a descendant of the Greek Delphi may be more likely, since there was more evidence of the temple discovered and records found. I still think it’s highly unlikely, but who am I to question her. Maybe some distant relative passed along the stories and traveled across Europe.”

“That’s the rumor,” he nodded. “Came from Balkan gypsies, they say. Would explain why their clan is so deep and connected.”

“As well as the divinity shtick.”

“And the tattoo, it connects you,” Tommy added as he stood up out of the chair and walked toward the bed, lifting up your legs and sitting at the end of the mattress, pulling your legs back to drape over his lap.

“I got this tattoo on a whim,” you said with a shrug, as of trying to shake it off your back. “I just drew it one day and decided to get it for my first tattoo.”

He chuckled, “So, what, after everything you’re just goin’ to chalk that up to a fuckin’ coincidence?”

You huffed, “I don’t know. What else am I supposed to believe? That I thought of the tattoo because something in my blood or heritage or some mythological corner of my subconscious knew that one day I’d need to meet a Balkan gypsy family of fortune tellers who’s ancestry dates back to my own?”

“Is that harder to believe than the two of us having dreams of each other before we’d ever even met?” He asked, the question feeling like a cold splash of water.

“No,” you groaned, throwing your hand over your face. “Both are just as ridiculous.”

Tommy rubbed your leg reassuringly. “Just one more question, and then I’ll drop the subject — for now at least.”

You sat up, realizing you were practically in his lap as you waited for him to continue.

“When I went to speak with Madam Despoina alone, she told me that our fates were entwined. That I shouldn’t repeat the follies of her god and that if I listened to you, if I didn’t push you, if I trusted you, we would achieve so much more together than apart. That you can predict the future, and I would be a fool to take your advice lightly.”

“Tommy, I can’t—“

“Can you predict the future?” He asked softly, running his fingers along your jawline.

“It’s not that simple, Tommy.“ You looked between his eyes, swallowing before dropping your gaze. “I know things. Not everything, I can’t predict Ada’s future or tell you what Harry’s going to have for dinner a week from now. But I know that the prohibition amendment will pass in America at the beginning of the year. I know the worker strikes will only continue to get worse. I know the Irish will continue to fight against the British government for independence, and eventually between themselves. I know that jazz music is going to be everywhere.”

“You knew when the end of the war was goin’ to be,” he added.

“And I know other things — things I can’t—“ you swallowed, lifting your eyes back to his and bringing your own hand to his face.

“Perhaps you are Cassandra,” he said, his eyes moving down to your lips, “and this time, I’m to believe you. I’m to protect you from this bloody curse.”

Your breath hitched at his words, “You— you believe? Me, all this? How?”

“Talk to Polly. Drink the tea. Who bloody knows if Madam Despoina is telling the truth or if she’s a fuckin’ nutter. But I trust my gut, and my gut has wanted you from the moment I saw you in my dreams.”

“Really?” You whispered with what little breath you seemed to have.

He smiled, humming. “And since you yelled at me down by the Cut.”

“I didn’t yell,” you chuckled, feeling the mood lighten again, your face just a breath away from his own.

He pulled you forward just enough for your lips to meet for the fourth time that night, kissing you softly. You kissed him back, the build up from tonight and two nights before making you needy.

“Tommy,” you whimpered when his mouth left your own for your neck. You swallowed thickly as an insecure thought crept through your mind. “I’m not a doll though, Tommy.”

“I know,” he said against your skin, his breath causing you to shiver.

“I don’t know how to help you,” you added, suddenly worried about whatever promises Madam Despoina seemed to be making for you.

He pulled away from your neck to meet your eyes again, running his hand through your hair. “You’ve already helped me, Y/N. I don’t care if you can tell the future — I don’t care if you can’t. I just know…” he paused, his adam’s apple bobbing as he rest his forehead against yours, “I need you, Y/N.”

>> next chapter

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#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x oc #Tommy Shelby reader insert #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby x reader #thomas Shelby x oc #tommy shelby x ofc #thomas Shelby x ofc #fanfic #time after time #mine

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thelastofhyde · 5 months

Text

prologue. rome.

pairing. tourguide!joel miller x fem!reader. series synopsis. on the brink of undergoing a life-altering change, you runaway from your problems in the only way any sane person can: embarking on a mediterranean cruise. there you meet joel miller, a grumpy, private tour-guide, who just so happens to be tasked with touring you through each stop on your cruise. from greek goddesses to roman ruins, you have ten days to avoid your fate. maybe a frowning, southern, sex-on-legs of a man is just what the doctor ordered. chapter summary. like all epic love stories, this one starts with a meet-(un)cute. series warnings. no use of y/n, set in 2015, cruise!au, rom-com, enemies-ish to lovers, sunshine!reader, tour-guide!joel, age gap, depictions/discussions of grief, angst, fluff, a whole load of smut, a lot of cheesy stereotypical romance tropes bc i just wanna see joel not suffer ( too much ) <3 chapter warnings. i’m pretty sure there’s no warnings this chapter. word count. 845. hyde’s input. & so it begins! my goal is to try post a chapter every other friday, but it may be weekly if i write + edit on time. likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 next chapter - series masterlist

Under the buzz of a dying light, you assess the damage.

Tousled hair, smudged mascara, bags under your eyes. Chapped lips, wrinkled clothing, a missing earring. Nail indentations, dry hands, a bruise on your knee.

You'd call yourself a mess, had you not been travelling at full-speed in the air, trapped inside an overgrown Pringles can that grew wings, for the past who-knows-how-many hours.

With a snoring seat-neighbour, a kid kicking at the back of you and the embarrassing sting of tears in your eyes, you'd not known peace until the plane had landed on solid ground. And, even then, the nightmare had picked right back up where it had left off, shapeshifting into a mile long customs queue and the overwhelming dread of watching the conveyor belt spin round and round with not a single sign of your suitcase.

It took a whole hour and speaking to an airport staff member later for them to find your case, right down the other end of the arrivals hall, sitting amongst luggage from a destination you'd certainly not arrived from.

But none of that matters, not now. At least you tell yourself that as you splash some cold water on your face. Looking back in the mirror, you try out a smile. It doesn't look genuine, but it's been a little harder to do recently, and so you give yourself credit for managing to at least have it meet your eyes.

There's a series of disgruntled, irritated faces that greet you as you exit the bathroom. You walk past them, head down, trying to count the beat in your footsteps and feel the roll of your suitcase's wheels.

Finding the signs that point to the arrival gate, you keep a low profile, as if anyone would know you here. Why would anybody know you here? Still, the need to stay hidden, out of sight, it intensifies, even as you take in the welcoming sign above sliding doors.

Buongiorno, benvenuto in Italia!

An overwhelming wave of loneliness hits you as you take your first step past the sliding doors, the usual hustle and bustle of an arrival's lounge greeting you. Couples embracing in reunion, families excitedly catching up on all that they've missed, strangers meeting for the first time, men in suits holding up signs with names and-

A different kind of wave hits you, physically, and suddenly you're on all fours, the sound of your knees smacking harshly into the marble floor taunting you with yet another bruise that'll be making a cameo in every picture you’ll take.

The world continues to pass you by, even as you juggle turmoil and pain. It’s a feat you’re trying to grow used to, but, for now, all you can manage is to not feel your stomach knot. You straighten your back, hands off the floor and your weight resting back against your knees. Pull a deep breath in, ignoring the tremble in your lower lip. In a moment of pure desperation, you wonder what more awaits you on this holiday from hell.

An awful flight, a lost-luggage scare, several bruises and now a public humiliation. What’s next?

You’re plucked up from where you sit, strong hands taking a gentle grip of your forearm. A simple tug and you obey the stranger’s signal, shifting to stand up straight. Turning on your heel to face your rescuer, you’re met with the back of a head, dark locks adorning it as the man reaches back down to grasp at your suitcase’s handle.

The man’s face is revealed slowly, undeliberately, as he rises to level once more, steadying your case back onto its wheels. Handsome, you notice the etching of laugh lines around his eyes and the peppering of patchy, yet fitting, facial hair along his jaw. A pair of headphones, big and chunky and sporting a wire, rest on the back of his neck and the strap of a backpack rests over his right shoulder.

You notice you’re staring a little too late, when there’s already a frown line splitting the skin of his forehead. Clear your throat, take back control of your suitcase and your senses.

Raised with manners, you rather clumsily thrust out your hand for the man to shake. “Thank you for your help, I appreciate it. So much. I'm-"

"You're in the way."

There’s no time to respond, not properly, as the man side-steps you with a grunt, his shoulder catching yours as he passes by. He doesn’t stop to apologise, simply readjusting the sliding strap of his bag and continuing his stride out into the sea of awaiting people.

Involuntarily, frozen where you stand, your eyes follow him as he comes to a stop in front of a uniformed man, a printed sign in his hand.

Signore Miller.

As you scan the crowd for your own name, spotting a casually dressed older gentleman carrying it upon scribbled cardboard, you repeat that name, over and over.

Miller, Miller, Miller.

Whoever the rude man may be, you pray for all those who cross his path on his trip.

#joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader

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teyamsatan · 1 year

Text

Cruel Summer | Chapter III: Clean

Pairings: Neteyam x (f)Human!Reader

Word Count: 6.6k words

Warnings/notes: angst, allusions to/mentions of smut, friends-with-benefits, mutual pining, some Spider x Reader, 18+ minors DNI

Synopsis: You and Neteyam learn to navigate life without the other.

A/N: Hey besties, I’m sorry that this took so long, but I’ve honestly been struggling a little on this website, and it’s taken quite the toll on me. It’s been a weird week(?), in which although I’ve never received more followers and more notes etc., I’ve also never felt more alone, and more disconnected from the platform and the people in it. I think you will be able to tell in the chapter as well. When I was posting the Cardigan series, although I had a lot less followers, I felt like people genuinely enjoyed/connected to the story, and I just don’t really feel that way anymore, and I think I’m still learning to deal with it. Anyway, personal issues aside, I really hope you enjoy this chapter! I think it’s only going to be another couple chapters in this story. I might however make an alternate ending to it? I’ve also had some inspiration for Midnight Rain Part II, and thank you so much for being patient with me with that story, it took me a while to understand what I wanted to do with it, as I wasn’t planning on it having a second part initially. Ramble over, I promise.

enjoy besties ily xoxo

: ̗̀➛ listen to Clean here : ̗̀➛ masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x)

The drought was the very worst

When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst

It was months and months of back and forth

You're still all over me like a wine-stained dress I can't wear anymore

“Come on… open the door, please?”

Lo’ak’s voice was pleading and saddened, and so were Kiri’s soft sobs, but you pretended you couldn’t hear them, not their tone nor their words, because hearing them meant acknowledging it and you couldn’t. You couldn’t acknowledge them, or the previous few that tried. Not Jake, not Norm, not Neteyam. Definitely not Neteyam. You couldn’t open that door, because if you did, you would crumble at their feet, you would beg and scream and thrash, and you didn’t want to do any of those things. The anger you felt for all of them, each and every one of them was strong enough to drown any other emotion, any emotion other than overwhelming hurt and anguish that was threatening to tear you apart with each passing moment that these people were standing outside your door, every moment that passed in which they were still leaving, still leaving you behind, leaving you alone.

You were all alone. No matter how many years you have spent by their side, no matter how much Jake promised you were as much their kid as the rest of them, no matter how many hours and days and months and years you have spent stuck to Neteyam like glue, it was all in vain. It was all fake. You would never be a part of their family. All these years, you were just a family pet, that they would pass on to the next owners when the situation called for it. This thought was fuel enough for a new set of wailed cries that you tried to muffle with a hand over your mouth. It took a while, but eventually, they left you to your own devices, left you to deal with the mess they made, a mess you’ll never forgive them for. Never forgive him for.

At the dawn of a new day, the dreaded day, a new knock, more timid and timed bellowed, and the sound rang painfully in your ears.

“Kid… they’re leaving. They really want to say goodbye to you… they all do. Tuk is crying, she’s saying you’re mad at her. Just… just please come out, honey, ok?”

Tuk…

“Tuk can come in. But that’s it.” You hoped Norm couldn’t make out how hoarse and broken your voice sounded, and hope he couldn’t tell that you cried so much in one night that you blacked out from dehydration, only to be woken up by his announcement.Sure enough, a few minutes later, Tuk came in through the door you just unlocked. You tried to wash your face and look a little more presentable, but as you took one swift look in the mirror, you knew it was pointless. You just prayed Tuk wouldn’t notice.

“Come in, baby.” She ran into your arms and fastened her arms around your neck, and you were always shocked at how she was just as tall as you, and somehow even stronger.

“Sister! I thought I wouldn’t get the chance to say goodbye.” She was crying, you realised, as her hot tears spilled down your back, getting absorbed in your cotton top.

“Of course you would, baby. I am so sorry. I’m so sad that you’re going, so I needed some time, but I would never let you leave without telling you how much I’ll miss you, and that I love you so, so much. You’re the best little sister anyone could have ever asked for.” Her high-pitched cries tugged at your heart painfully, but you knew you had to be strong for her. She didn’t deserve any of it, any pain or hurt, anything other than pure bliss.

“I love you, too! I want you to come with. Why can’t you come with?”

You tried to ignore the way your entire body felt like it was being put through the meat grinder, and just focused on her, on her tears and her soft little hair that you caressed gently, and the way her head fit so well in the crook of your neck.

“Because I’m human, baby. And where you are going, they wouldn’t like me. I wouldn’t fit in. But baby, look at me.” You brushed the unruly braids out of her face and her tears from her cheeks, giving her the biggest smile you could muster. “This isn’t goodbye forever. I will see you again soon, and I can’t wait to hear all the adventures you’ve had and all the memories you’ve made. I’m so proud of you, you know? One day, you’ll outgrow me, and I’ll get to watch you be the most amazing warrior ever, just like your mummy is. And I’ll still be your biggest cheerleader, and I’ll watch from the bleachers, like in the movies, do you remember?”

She nods half-heartedly, but her face lights up a little, and you think the worst is over.

“Come, I’m sure everyone’s waiting. I will miss you, sweet girl. Be safe.”

You kissed her forehead and both of her cheeks, and with one last hug, she left.

They left. He left.

Hung my head as I lost the war

And the sky turned black like a perfect storm

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

“How does it feel?” Neteyam watched as you eyed his queue, that was leisurely hung over his shoulder, a glimmer of curiosity in your eyes. He’s noticed you doing that for a while now, and when you were kids, he’s let you touch it once or twice, but it’s been years now, and the situation was no longer applicable. You were no longer just a friend, not quite a mate, somewhere in between, something undefined and awkward, something you didn’t talk about unless absolutely necessary.

“How does what feel, Vol?”

“The Tsaheylu. Connecting to another animal, another Na’vi. How does it feel?”

“I thought you knew about from all your little books.” You rolled your eyes and huffed annoyedly.

“Yes, I do. I know the theory. I know you use it to connect to other beings, to Eywa, I know you can feel each other’s emotions. I know all of that. But how does it feel?”

Neteyam thought about it for a long time. How was he supposed to describe something that was so natural and so quintessential to his life, to his existence, to someone who would never be able to experience for themselves?

“Do you know how sometimes we look at each other and we kind of just have a whole conversation just with one look? Because we know each other so well now, that words are not really necessary? Vol… I know everything you think, and everything you feel. I know you so deep in my soul, it’s hard to separate my own feelings from yours, my own thoughts. You’ve become so essential to my being, it’s like you are a constant part of me.”

He suddenly felt very vulnerable and exposed at the confession, and felt like he overshared something that may have been better left unsaid.

“I mean, I-“

“I know what you mean.”

You sighed and got closer to him, and you moved until you were in his lap, in your own little bubble of safety and comfort. It was your favourite place in the world, you once told him.

“I know what you mean too well. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell where I stop and you start.”

He felt relieved at your words, relieved to know you understood and felt the same. That you got him.

“Well, there you go. That’s kinda how it feels like.”

“But, how does it feel like? When you mate with someone, does it amplify the sensations, does it… make it better? Make it so you never want someone else ever again?”

The saddened, desolate tone of your voice told Neteyam that you were moving into uncharted territory, that this conversation was taking a turn neither of you were ready or skilled enough to navigate safely. He didn’t know what was the right way to answer something like that. Because the truth was that yes, from his understanding, it did make it better. It made it more intense, more special, it made it everything. There was a reason Na’vi had sex with however many people they wanted, but only bonded with one. It was the bond that separated a sexual experience from a mating experience, from something you would only ever wanted to experience with just one special someone. But he couldn’t say that to you. Not when you didn’t have this ability and never will, not when he knew how much you wanted it, not when there was nothing neither of you could do about it. So he considered a different approach.

“Do you want to touch it?”

Neteyam’s never allowed anyone near his queue before. No Na’vi would. The kuru was for themselves, for their mates and for their mothers as infants. It was the most sensitive and intimate part of them, and so naturally, Neteyam was a little uneasy and nervous. But he trusted you. He loved you. He was in love with you, and would have given anything to mate with you, but maybe this will be enough.

He laughed softly at the way your eyes widened in shock. You understood the implication of what he was asking you, and that scared you both. But still, almost bashfully, you nodded, a soft warm loving smile taking over your features. You softly reached for it and brushed your hands over the length that was draped over his shoulder, a touch so soft, so minuscule that it was barely there, but Neteyam’s whole body shuddered, goosebumps instantly appearing throughout his whole body. You quickly removed your hand, and looked guilty as you spoke.

“I’m sorry. This was probably a bad ide-“

“Hey, stop.”

Neteyam couldn’t help his fingers as they reached out and stroked you face and jaw, making their way down your throat and collarbone. He smirked a little when you shivered under his touch.

“See? Did that feel bad?”

You smiled and shook your head gently.

“It doesn’t feel bad. It’s just… new. But I want you to do it, Vol. I want you to do it.”

A little unnerved, you resumed your inspection of his braid, grabbing at as gently as you could and bringing it up to eye level.

“The hair here is softer.” You mused, almost to yourself. “I love that.”

Slowly, you moved downstream, until eventually, you reached its end, and gasped slowly as the pink tendrils came into view, moving a lot more erratically and enthusiastically than they normally did.

“Why are they doing that?”

“Because of you, Vol.” he said through panted breaths. He was experiencing a range and intensity of emotions he never had before, never in his life. The things you were doing to him, that only you ever did to him, the feelings you evoked in his mind and body, were now intensified a thousand fold, and he was crumbling under their weight.

“It’s doing that because my body feels you. Feels what you’re doing, knows who you are.” He hesitated before speaking, but he needed to get it out, he had to get it out. “It’s doing that because it knows I’m close to someone it… it wants to mate with.”

You removed your hand from him almost like his queue burned you. Your face contorted in a frown and you were struggling to push tears back in your eyes.

“Oh. Well, unfortunately, that’s never going to be able to happen, so…” You removed yourself from his lap and started turning your back to him, but he caught you and held you in place. You were almost face to face like this, which Neteyam was happy about. He had to look into your eyes to get his point across. He had to look into your eyes to get the courage needed to say this.

“Ma Vol, it doesn’t matter.” You scoffed, and the small movement of your head spilled unwanted tears, that you quickly brushed away with your thumb.

“Hey, look at me. Please?” You did so hesitantly. His thumb was caressing your face, your jaw and lips.

“It doesn’t matter. Do you not understand, Vol?” He moved his hand to rest on your chest, above your heart. “I can feel you. I can feel everything you feel. I can feel feel it like I’m going through it. When you’re sad, I’m sad. When you’re happy or shy, or anxious or scared, when you are annoyed or excited, I feel it all. You see? It doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t you get it? It never mattered. Not with you.” A small moan escaped you at his words, that he knew you needed to hear, and he needed to speak out loud. He didn’t know what would happen, didn’t know if he should have, but as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, harsh and needy, he couldn’t find it in him to care.

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

There was nothing left to do

When the butterflies turned to dust that covered my whole room

So I punched a hole in the roof

Let the flood carry away all my pictures of you

Neteyam woke up with a mean headache, and he felt almost hungover. He always did these days, pain seeping through every dimension of his life, of his body and mind. The dreams were unrelenting, and they stung each night, so many memories, so many moments he wished he could go back to, that he wished he could relive… that he wish he could forget. It’s been weeks, yet your final interaction still haunts him. How could it not? He didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye. Nineteen years of friendship, of being each other’s safety net were swiftly thrown out the window in a split second, and Neteyam found it difficult to cope with the gap you and your presence left behind. There was so much that had to change for him, it felt like every day was a new life he never asked for and didn’t want, but was forced to live through regardless. A strange purgatory, one with warm breezes and crystal clear water and golden sandy beaches. Probably not the worst of purgatories, if Neteyam was honest with himself, but even Heaven could easily feel like Hell under the right circumstances.

“Ok kids, remember, no getting into trouble. Go meet Tsireya and Aonung and train. Pull your weight. Neteyam, once you’ve mastered the ilu, Tonowari said you can start learning how to tame the tsurak. Now let’s go show the Metkayina how the Omatikaya do things, alright, kids?”

“Yes, sir.”

Neteyam walked alongside his siblings to the meeting place they’ve been training every day for the past couple of weeks. As it turns out, the Metkayina can hold their breath underwater for up to 15 minutes, their bodies physically adapted to allow them to, and well… the Sullys couldn’t. So there was a lot of breathing training, on top of swimming lessons and ilu riding practice. Neteyam was frustrated to have to start anew, frustrated that he couldn’t fly every day, the way he has grown accustomed to for the past 6 years since completing his Iknimaya, frustrated that he went from being the future Olo’eyktan to a novice, to a nobody.

Despite everything, he tried. That was in his nature. He would always try, he would always give his best, and he would always make the best out of a bad situation, because that’s who he was. That’s who he had to be. The move left him broken and unmoored, with no purpose and no home, but Neteyam would still keep going, because his family depended on him, and that knowledge alone was enough to keep him afloat just a little while longer.

Neteyam couldn’t help be jealous of his little brother, who not only adapted, but he did so almost instantly. The new place felt immediately like home to the boy who has always felt alone and misunderstood, like a pariah and an outcast. It was the same here, yet somehow, the presence of the Olo’eyktan’s only daughter seem to lessen the blow and make him want to try harder than he ever has before. His breathing technique was better than all of theirs, except Kiri's, most likely due to the extra lessons he was getting every day from Tsireya. Neteyam was proud of Lo’ak, he really was. But he couldn’t shake the feeling of annoyance that once more, whilst Neteyam was plagued with insurmountable challenges and continuous sacrifices, Lo’ak once more got everything he’s wanted handed to him on a silver platter. He just wishes sometimes life could work out in his favour the same way, at least once. At least in one aspect. The one aspect.

The days were long and tedious, but every day something happened that he wished he could tell you about, that he wished you could experience. You loved water. He could just about imagine your face, your thoughts, your every expression, every sound you would make, every undulation of your voice. He could imagine taking you to the mangrove forest and finding a spot just for the two of you, your screams of pleasure drowned by the greenery and the sounds of exotic birds. He could see you taking your mask off despite his complaints, and kissing him, deeply and passionately, smiling as his tongue explored your body, as your hands explored his.

He missed you. He wondered if you missed him too, or if the hatred that probably fuelled your days prevented you from doing so.

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

“I’ve missed you.”

You were a mess of tangled limbs on your bed, Neteyam’s warmth enveloping you like a cozy blanket, much more so than the one currently covering you both. His voice was thick and laced with languor, and so sweet, it was making your eyes flutter closed in bliss and soothing relaxation.

“I’ve missed you, too, Teyam.”

Neteyam’s large hand cupped your face, lifting it gently so he could meet your eyes, smiling softly as he did.

“Ma Vol… are you happy?”

Neteyam’s loaded question took you by surprise, and woke you from your near-sleep. You thought about it for a while, pondering the weight of the word. Happy. Were you happy? Happiness was such a strange, abstract concept to you. On one hand, yes, you were. So, so happy. In this moment, you were happy. In every moment you were in his arms, every moment he laughed at your silly jokes, or watched you intently as you spoke about your day, in every moment he was just who he was, your best friend, your confidant, your boyfriend and mate for all intents and purposes, except the one that mattered most. And there was the flip side, the ugly monster, that was ever-present and following you everywhere you went, marring even the most serene, the most beautiful, the happiest memories. The truth. The truth was the antithesis of happiness. Because the truth told you that one day, Neteyam would up and leave you, and when he did, your life as you have come to know it for 19 years will change. Because let’s be honest. Not only will you lose him as a lover, as an unofficial boyfriend, but you knew you would lose him as a friend. You knew that whoever it was that would be his mate would not approve of your friendship, and that, in time, even that will dwindle and fall apart, leaving you completely on your own.

Still, all of that was far away in the future in your mind, and telling Neteyam any of it meant admitting feelings you shouldn’t be harbouring to begin with, so you settled for a white lie. A harmless lie. A necessary lie.

“I am, Teyam.”

“Are you?”

“Right now, I am.”

“Good. Because so I am. I know it’s strange. I hate this place, you know. So many horrible things have come out of it, so much hurt and pain and death, but somehow, being here with you… this room, this bed. Somehow it feels like home. And I think it’s you. I think you’re my home.”

You tightened your grip on his body and didn’t say anything as you allowed yourself the respite of his words, and the hope of tomorrow.

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

You woke up in pain, and crying, as you did most nights these days. You were slowly losing hope the nightmares would ever stop, that his face would ever be erased from your mind, both conscious and unconscious, tugging at every strand of sanity you had left, any shred of self-preservation still keeping you going. It’s been long enough that you thought the pain should have subsided by now. Long enough that maybe, just maybe, the world wouldn’t be as dark and gloomy anymore, that maybe while not the whole sun, but at least one ray of it could penetrate the ice that wrapped around your heart, slowly thawing it. But your world was still dark and filled with dim shadows and water that was slowly filling every chamber of your heart and lungs, slowly drowning you.

You got out of bed with a sigh and turned on the shower, water so hot it felt almost scalding on your skin, the only way you showered these days, the only way it was bearable, the only way. Because this way, in your mind, little by little, every inch of skin on your body he ever touched was slowly melting away, and in time, all the cells that died would be replaced with new ones, and in time, your body will be rid of his imprint and then, maybe then, you could finally be free.

You made your way to the dining area, determined to be a productive member of society at least to some extent today, determined to not spend yet another day in bed, replaying the same 10 songs that only made you sadder, or the same show that you have seen so many times you have memorised by heart. Most of the humans and Avatars were there, enjoying some breakfast prior to a long day ahead. There was yet another attacked planned today. Tarsem was a good leader. Strong and capable, unrelenting in his quest to impede as many of the human developments as he possibly could. He was not deterred by the Recoms and he had faith in Eywa’s ability and desire to protect her world and her people, and so far, he has been right. Even with Avatars, they have not been able to find the new Omatikaya base of operations, and you have even found some of them dead in the woods, mostly likely as a result of an attack by all the ikran that lived in the mountains.

“Morning, honey.” Max sent a wide smile your way, that you tried your best to reciprocate.

“Coffee?” The words were music to your ears. You’ve only tasted coffee a couple of times when you were young, before the provisions depleted, but now, with all the trains and helicopters that the Na’vi and Avatars managed to take down, the stronghold had plenty to spare once more.

“Yes, please.” Norm poured you the magic liquid and took a sip of it himself, sighing happily to himself.

“You know, it really does suck that the humans came back, but my God, this is definitely a silver lining.”

You chuckled a little.

“I doubt the Na’vi will see it that way, Norm.”

“No, but outside of coffee and burgers and all the other human things we’ve missed, Tarsem is incredible, kid! We have so many lab supplies, reagents and equipment that we are still trying to unpack, categorise and put together. It’s incredible all the stuff they brought with them. It’s almost like all the stuff we used to do on Earth, they’re trying to bring here. Who knows what we could do with all of it?”

“After breakfast, I can help you with it. This way we can go through it faster and figure it out?”

“That’d be great, kid.”

“Where’s Spider?”

“He’s training with the Olo’eyktan and his men. You know? Tarsem loves him!” Norm laughs heartily. You raise an eyebrow.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, kid! Turns out 19 years of training with Neteyam and Lo’ak under Jake’s supervision really did make him quite the fighter. Now, he’s obviously never going to be able to take the Iknimaya or be one of the people, but Tarsem sees a true warrior in him. Can you believe that?”

You couldn’t really, but you also couldn’t help the swell of pride that overtook you. It was nice to know there was some hope for the humans in the clan after all.

“Why don’t you go with him? You’ve also trained with the kids growing up. I know you split your time between that and being in the lab, but kid, it’s worth a shot. There’s a whole life out there waiting for you, and this way, you get to feel more integrated with the village. This is what you’ve wanted all your life, isn’t it?”

Yeah, you thought bitterly. A different life.

Despite everything, you took Norm’s advice, and spent your time training with Spider and the Na’vi warriors, deepening your understanding of guns, practicing bow and arrows and even learning hand to hand combat from the human Avatars. In the spare time, you helped in the lab, doing experiments and organising all the overwhelming amounts of new things you were receiving from all the raids. It was a good distraction, and it kept you busy sun up til sun down, each day, every day.

You and Spider got closer by the day, even closer somehow than you used to be. You cleaned his wounds and he helped clean yours, although he didn’t know much about how to do it, but in time, you taught him and you enjoyed the feeling of another person helping you, another person healing you. You almost felt the edges of the gaping hole in your chest start to close when you spent your days together.

But no amount of distraction could really keep the nightmares away when they wanted to come and haunt you in the night.

Ten months sober, I must admit

Just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it

You woke up panting, crying and tugging at your night gown in an effort to make the pain stop, the gaping hole in your heart that hurt still as badly as that first day, that never seemed to get any smaller, that refused to heal. You barely registered the door to your bedroom sliding open with a soft whoosh, but jumped when you noticed a dark figure approaching you slowly.

“Spider, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry. I just heard you scream, I was worried about you.”

You looked at Spider, your eyes adjusted to the dark enough to make out his beautiful face and his dreads that were getting longer by the day. He needs a haircut, you decided mindlessly. You had to admit his presence was soothing to you, his presence in this room that only Neteyam truly ever came in, that only Neteyam ever slept in, that only Neteyam knew as well and intimately as you did. But Neteyam wasn’t here. Neteyam would never be here again. You winced at the sharp burst of pain that shot through you at the thought.

“I’m alright. Thanks for asking. Just had a nightmare.”

Spider sighed, picking at something on his arm.

“Yeah. I get those too.”

You barely stopped to consider what Spider must be going through, too self-involved in your own heartbreak to recognise his own, one that was probably closer to yours that you could have ever thought. You lost Neteyam, but Spider lost Kiri. You both lost a Sully, both lost a love you cared for deeply, more than anyone could ever understand except the other.

“Ok, well, sleep well. Let me know if you need anything.”

You saw Spider turn around and make his way towards the exit, and you could’t help the voice that came out uninvited.

“Can you… stay? Please? I don’t want to be alone.”

Spider stopped in his tracks, still turned away from you, and you watched as the atmosphere of the room shifted, as the silence became thicker than it had been a few moments ago.

“Yeah… yeah, I can stay.” He slowly walked towards your desk chair that had a few clothes thrown carelessly on it, that he removed and put on your desk instead. He sat down, playing with the height and back support controls.

“Goodnight, gorgeous.”

You laughed quietly.

“Spider, I meant stay with me.” You shuffled on one edge of your bed and patted the other side. You watched his eyes go wide and mouth agape, as he stared at you in shock.

“You don’t have to, if you’re uncomfortable with it.”

He shook his head and lowered his eyes to the ground. “No, it’s not that, it’s just…”

“Spider, it’s ok. Forget I asked, ok?”

“Oh, shut up. I want to, ok? I just needed a second to adjust. Jeez.”

In true Spider fashion, he stomped over to the bed and got under the covers, and slowly turned around to face you. This was a strange feeling to adjust to for sure. You’ve never had a normal sized person in this bed before. You’ve never had anyone else in here before except Neteyam. Spider looked tiny by comparison, even though the young man was almost a whole head taller than you. Your synchronised breaths were the only thing filling up the tense, awkward silence.

“This is a little weird.”

You couldn’t help chuckle. Well, at least one of you acknowledged it.

“A little.” You admitted. “But I’m glad you’re here, Spider.” He gave you a boyish, crooked smile, one that you’ve grown up seeing develop, just like the rest of him had. You never really paid attention to Spider before. To you, he was just your weird, Tarzan-impersonator, lanky and smelly friend, someone that was just always there. After Neteyam, you never really paid attention to anyone, especially of the opposite sex. Why would you? Any second spent on such affairs was a second wasted, in your mind. But now, Neteyam was gone. Neteyam would move on, and he’d find a mate, whether in the Metkayina or back here, if he ever return. It was time for you to pay attention, it seemed. And you did.

Spider grew up into a beautiful man. He was tall and strong, a testimony to the entire life dedicated to living as close to a Na’vi as he possibly could in this body, that was pure muscle. He was completely naked barring a pair of boxers, and even in the cover of darkness, you couldn’t help trace his biceps and pecs, his pronounced collarbones, and settle you gaze on his face, still kind and innocent, still the same kid you’ve known your whole life.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you smiled a little, almost bashful that he caught you, not that you were in any way subtle about it.

“You’re beautiful, you know? I think I’ve always been caught up in my own bullshit to really notice, and I’m sorry for that.” He rolled his eyes, but the blush in his cheeks was so intense it was noticeable even in the dim light coming from the bioluminescent glow of the nature right outside your window.

“You mean caught up in Neteyam.”

It was your turns to blush, hard enough that your cheeks felt like they caught fire. He laughs at you.

“It’s ok. You’re not the only one who knows what it’s like to love someone you can never have, and also not the only one who did things Neytiri would kill you for if she ever found out.” He opened up his arms.

“Come here.”

You hesitated for a second, but couldn’t help the sudden need to be held again, to allow yourself the chance of some sort of connection, some sort of lull in a sea of storms and heartache. Once in his arms, you were once again painfully aware of the difference between him and the man you’ve come to know by heart, the man that still held every part of you hostage, trapped in his hold.

“I know you’ve had a really tough time, and I know that you’re angry, and that most of all, you’re sad that it’s over. I am, too. But the rest of us are still here, you know? The rest of the world is still here. And I think maybe it’s time you give it a chance. Who knows what will happen?”

“How can you be so ok with it? They left us. They abandoned us.” His hand was calloused, but warm and gentle and it caressed up and down your back, and the touch, so familiar and yet so different, brought tears in your eyes as you found yourself wishing once more other hands, bigger and bluer, could do it instead.

“They had no choice. You really think any of them would abandon their home, their family, the forest… any of it, if they could help it?”

You were surprised at Spider’s words and way of thinking, so much more nuanced and level-headed than yours. You knew he was right. You knew it in your head that you shouldn’t blame any of them, shouldn’t blame him, that this was probably even harder for them that it would ever be for you, and yet still, your head and your heart rarely ever got along or saw eye to eye. Your heart was aching, shooting its poisoned blood all throughout your body with every heartbeat, trickling onto every cell, every ounce of you it could get to, making a mess out of you, leaving you reeling and broken, full of hatred and resentment.

“Don’t you… miss her?” He sighed, and stilled his hand movement on the nape of your neck. “I do. I miss them all. But this is a chance to prove myself, to live and show people that I am more than the Sullys’ little pet. And I will take this opportunity and give it everything I got. I suggest you do the same.”

“You should sleep. I’m gonna kick your ass in practice tomorrow otherwise.”

And so you did. And for the first time in months, you had a peaceful night.

Ten months older, I won't give in

Now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it

The peace didn’t last, as it never seemed to, as Norm burst in the lab one day when you were doing some experiments.

“Kid. I just heard from Jake.”

The mention of Jake’s name stilled you in your tracks. The name and the names associated with it could always do that, will always do that, even though it’s been months. You knew Jake would never risk their cover to get in touch, so whatever the reason for this was, it was serious. You felt a lump in your throat, restricting your airways, making the breaths you took shallow and uneven.

“What’s the matter?”

”It’s Kiri. Something happened to her underwater. She’s unconscious. Jake asked us to come right away.”

Kiri… your sister in all the ways that mattered, you loved this girl with all your heart. The thought of anything bad happening to her was unthinkable to you. Another thought crept unwelcome in your mind, increasing the lump now completely obstructing your breath, that got stuck in your airways. Spider…

Trying to calm your thoughts, you spoke, and the voice scratched your throat painfully on its way out.

“Did you t-… did you tell him?”

“He’s out in the forest. There is no time. Me and Max are going now. Kid… I think you should come with.”

Eyebrows raised and mouth agape, you struggled to gather your thoughts enough to speak, only soft mumbles coming out instead.

“W-wh-“

“Because I think there’s a lot left unsaid. I know you’re angry, and you have a right to be, far be it from me to tell you how to feel, but…” he sighed, and you could tell he felt uneasy speaking to you about this. “Spider got some closure. You didn’t. Take it from an old man, life’s too short to not have some peace of mind. Kiri’s unwell, and if something happens to her, you will regret for the rest of your life not having said a proper goodbye when they left, when they wanted to.”

“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but they did think they were protecting you by leaving. You know they love you, kid. You’re their sister, their best friend. You’re as good as Jake’s daughter. They wouldn’t have left if they ever thought they had a choice.”

“Look, you don’t have to come. I just want what’s best for you, and I think isolating yourself the way you’ve been doing for months isn’t what’s best for you. Just come. Help us save Kiri, say your peace to the Sully family and then maybe you can move on, honey. And who knows… maybe you and Spider…”

You refused to think about his last sentence and focused on how your mind was short-circuiting at his other words, at his desire for you to join, at the thought of seeing them again. Of seeing him again. Your heart was beating so hard it felt like it was trying to escape your ribcage, and you ran your hand up and down your arms in order to remove the sweat that was gathering on your skin. You knew you probably shouldn’t, you knew that you were better off never seeing them again and forgetting the way his touch and his presence and his voice still had the power to make your knees buckle under the weight of what he meant to you, of the calamitous love you will always feel for him, but another thought, more pressing and urgent, more demanding, made you speak before your mind could intervene.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

The drought was the very worst

When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst

Taglist: @liluvtojineteyam @pinkpantheris @netemoon @fanboyluvr@bananafruityawne @liluvtojineteyam @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @netemoon @www-interludeshadow-com

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justporo · 8 months

Text

A Night of Song and Laughter (Part 6)

In which Astarion basically says "Murder is okay, but it's not okay to disrespect my wife". A lot of swearing in this one, be warned - also Astarion's bares his claws.

So - ARE YOU READY FOR ANOTHER ONE?? I'm honestly so tired, at the moment, it's doing my job at day, being a fanfic writer and servant to the fandom at night. Which results in poor sleep schedule and eating habits. Didn't even get to keep playing for a few days. But I love all the things happening, all the content people create and people liking my content as well - after all I am just as prone to flattery as Astarion is.

Also I should make a post where I will link all chapters - I will do that probably tonight or tomorrow - depending on how quick writing the next part will be.

You know the drill by now, you can already continue reading on AO3!

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

(Gif from here!)

Astarion quickly made to take everyone’s drink orders. When Daegin opted to get off his stool and get himself another beer and almost fell off it, Eodin just about caught him and convinced him to take a round of water. So the dwarf complained and made to rest his head on the table.

Before Astarion left for the bar he threw a quick questioning glance at you, with it asking if it would be okay to leave you for a few moments. You nodded slightly and smiled reassuringly at him but in fact you were dreading to be alone with these people even though they were your friends.

When Lira offered to go with him to help carry everything your heart sank even deeper. Closing your eyes for a short moment, you steeled yourself for the words that would definitely be had once Astarion and Lira would be out of earshot. At least they would think that, when you were pretty sure Astarion would use every one of his heightened vampiric and elven senses to not miss a single word.

When you opened your eyes again you saw how Lira practically beamed at Astarion who was much taller than her. She didn’t even reach his shoulders. Lira had always been your closest friend in the group, she was truly a sweetheart – you had wondered how she did make such a formidable thief though since she seemed so honest and soft. You were more than sure Astarion already had a place in her heart, and she would use the moments she had to completely obliterate the vampire with many more questions about him and your relationship. The thought made you smile.

Astarion swiftly and elegantly managed to navigate through the now much bigger crowd to the bar while making sure the much smaller half-elf wasn’t pushed over by anyone in the pretty drunk crowd. You could barely make a step without bumping into people, so he softly touched her shoulder, kept his hand there lightly and motioned her to walk in front of him, so she wouldn’t be elbowed in the face by accident. She was completely oblivious to his show of polite chivalry since she had started bombarding him with questions about himself and Tav.

“Have you been together long? Did you save her like a hero on a white horse and she inevitably fell for you? Wait, you said, she saved you, what happened? Are you staying in Baldur’s Gate? We have to meet again some time, I need to know absolutely everything. You two are such a beautiful couple, Gods, you would have gorgeous babies! Does she make you happy? She seems so happy, I’ve never seen her this happy, you have to take good care of her for me, promise?” Astarion kept softly nudging her to get her to move to the bar while she basically kept walking backwards and blabbering. Since he was also trying to focus on the conversation that no doubt was going on at the table he had just left, he only gave pretty short answers to Lira: “A few months now. Once or twice, no horse needed though, they bite too much for my liking. Much longer story. We are. I’m sure we can. Uhm, thank you.” But the last few things Lira had said and asked made Astarion focus entirely on her. He looked at her expecting face and replied: “She makes me very happy and in a way, I didn’t think I could ever feel. And if I truly make her only a fraction as happy as she’s made me, I can be considered the luckiest man in all of Baldur’s Gate, nay, Faerun. And I’ll promise you I will do anything I can to keep her happy and safe as long as she’ll want me by her side.” The sudden change in tone and sincerity in his words stopped Lira in her rambling. “Wow”, she simply whispered silently and looked at Astarion. Then she suddenly jumped to give him a quick hug. Astarion almost made to step out of reach before her arms went around his waist, but he let it happen. The concept of hugging was still pretty new to him, except with you of course. And since he didn’t quite know how to react correctly in such a situation, he just kind of went to awkwardly pat the adorable half-elf on the back. This was still new, but he was pretty sure that it was nice and warmth filled his chest.

Lira let go off him, seemingly also surprised by her sudden outburst: “Sorry… I’m just so happy for her… and for you too!” She smiled warmly then turned around, since they were finally at the bar. “Soooo – I am certainly invited to the wedding, am I not? Can I be Tav’s Maid of Honor?” Astarion would have probably blushed would that have been possible for him. Did anyone ever make him this flustered in a matter of hours since meeting? Well, you probably, but other than that? He was released from questioning though when the barmaid came over and took their order. As they waited, Astarion decided he definitely liked this one of your friends and decided to be his best polite and interested self and asked Lira to tell him about herself.

You watched the two of them wander off into the crowd. Then you remembered the two rather grim faces in front of you and the one, that was already much too drunk to actually really notice anything.

Eodin had crossed the arms over his chest again, dropping the façade completely: “You have some nerve, Tav.” His tone was bitter. You see Miyena’s lip slightly curve into a smirk. “You disappear for months, leave us with a load of jobs, we can’t finish because we need your goddamn elven ass, since you are the best with sleight of hand and all. Which made us not only miss out on said jobs but also caused us to lose most of our clients, because now we seem to be the most unreliable band of thieves this city has ever seen! And then you reappear with this fucking elven twink and basically let him take you right on the fucking table like a slut!”, Eodin’s voice rises more and more during his rant while Miyena’s malicious smirk grows bigger. At least you can tell who it was who spewed so much venom into his ear. Daegin didn’t seem to react even though Eodin was practically shouting, in fact, you could hear some soft snoring.

You are completely dumbstruck. Had you expected a verbal ass-whooping? Absolutely! Had you expected this? Absolutely not! The feelings of guilt you had for abandoning your friends albeit there hadn’t been anything you could’ve done about this vanished in an instant. His words were pure venom and you could feel rage slowly rear inside you. Being angry about all of this was the one thing but it was the way he said it, especially with the intonation of your and Astarion’s elven heritage and calling you a slut? You were done with the niceties and you started to feel murderous.

You sucked on your teeth and mimicked Eodin’s aggressive stance, looked him straight in the eyes and asked: “Mind telling me, what exactly changed in the past months I wasn’t here? I get being angry and wanting an explanation. What I don’t get is you insulting me and Astarion – who you’ve never met before today, might I add – making a scene here in front of everyone and especially, what specifically makes this about me being an elf?” You saw how Miyena side-eyed him and raised an expectant eyebrow. “And you certainly didn’t think of me as slut, when I jerked you off and you were too drunk to get it up properly! You disgust me!” He winced at the mention of this particularly embarrassing night you had shared, which incidentally had been the last. You were disgusted by the memory. Bile was raising in your throat, making you gag – why did you ever think this guy deserved you at all?

“Well, I thought you weren’t like them – all fleeting attention, mysteries, riddles. I thought I knew you, Tav, I thought you were my friend… and I even thought you were more for some time. I thought you were one of us, so sweet and nice… So… indeed, Tav, what has changed?” You couldn’t believe your ears. Never had your elven heritage made any difference at all, especially since you’d grown up on the city streets and hadn’t had the comfort of a sheltered childhood far off in the woods in some elven enclave. His words hurt. You might’ve never seen him in the way he once wanted you, but he had been a close friend, an understanding friend. This angry and obviously jealous side was not only new but disgusting to you. Your eyes wandered over to Miyena who was still smirking. “Well, for starters”, you said “thinking really ever wasn’t your strong suit. You should leave that to the others. Ah, but seems you already handed that duty over to Miyena here.” You turned to the tiefling and threw her a death glare: “Don’t think I don’t see how you’ve been smirking and side-eyeing Eodin the whole time, you bitch. You always wanted everything for yourself. Go ahead, you can have him, his limp-dick and all loot and coin you get from your jobs, I don’t care.” The tiefling woman looked ready to throw daggers at you. Eodin opened his mouth, now having at least the decency to look the slightest bit guilty, but you lifted your hand before he could speak and continued: “If all it takes for you to turn against me and discriminate me is being away for a few months, then consider everything – our work friendship, our work arrangement – separated. You were always very impressionable, but never would I have thought you were so easy to turn into a hot toxic pile of garbage. Go right on with Miyena, but be careful, she was already eyeing Astarion, because she always wants what others have.” And with that you ended your spiteful little speech.

The man and the tiefling looked at each other for a second, then continued to stare angrily at you. A year back, you ‘d never would have called them out on their bullshit, you had indeed changed. Back then you would have eaten up the shame and would have given in to your strong people-pleasing tendency. But you were done taking the world’s and everyone’s shit and be thankful for mere scraps they threw you, you deserved better than this – something your vampiric soulmate had taught you. “Now, you can fuck off or you can stay and be nice for the night because I don’t want to spoil the evening for Lira and Daegin”, you added when neither of them said anything.

This suddenly seemed to get Miyena and Eodin out of their stupor. Miyena simply hissed at you, when Eodin spat: “Why don’t you fuck off, you and that arrogant elven prick. Who is he really anyway, did you sell yourself off to him as a plaything or mistress or something? You don’t belong…”

A glint of silver and there was a blade at each Miyena’s and Eodin’s throat. Astarion was standing impossibly close behind them both, his arms around each of their shoulders. He’d masterfully had sneaked up behind them. To others, it would have looked simply like a drunken hug from afar – only the two daggers pressing against their necks were distracting from that. “I’d advise you to hold very still or you’ll find out exactly how prickly I can be”, Astarion whispered to them in a voice that was actually rather made for candle light and dark bedrooms, his red eyes were glinting with fury. The tiefling slightly hissed at him but tensed, Eodin just whimpered.

“Now, I really did not appreciate your tone and how you spoke to my partner. But seeing as I was enjoying myself so much tonight, I’m giving you one more chance. You can be nice little puppies now and be polite and graceful for the rest of the evening. And after tonight I never want to see a shred of you again”, he whispered to them hoarsely, his mouth wandering from Eodin’s ear to Miyena’s and back again. The daggers pressed slightly harder against their throats now.

“Or”, Astarion drawled and smiled wickedly “you can fuck off right now, just as my lovely lady here proposed. Choose as you wish but behave or I will splatter you all over the walls.” You swallowed hard, did he have to be this threatening and with that tone in his voice. In a very twisted way, you enjoyed what was happening way too much. Gods, you loved when Astarion became all protective. And something wild and dark in you enjoyed his threatening, predatory demeanor. The softest gasp left your mouth and you squeezed your thighs together – hard. This was not the time to get aroused. Astarion heard though and his eyebrow shot up, his eyes flicking to yours for a split second and his signature smirk found its way back on his lips.

“What will it be now?”, he then whispered to his two captives again “I wouldn’t want to end the night in bloodshed – well, maybe a little.” He grinned baring his fangs and licked over his lips slowly. Eodin turned completely pale and Miyena’s eyes widened.

“Go… let us go”, the man whispered and started to struggle against Astarion’s hold while trying to not get knicked by the knife at his throat.

“Then have it your way”, Astarion sneered and in one swift movement withdrew his daggers, turned them around and pushed them off into the crowd - hard. They stumbled away, bumping into the people around them but quickly made their way away from you.

Astarion rolled his shoulders and sighed dramatically, then looked at you grinning: “Ah, darling, so good to be alone with you again, don’t you think?” His eyes wandered down your body and he licked his lips again. “Nothing like a little drama and knife play to spice up the night, am I right?” His red eyes turned even darker with an impossible hunger shining in them. You gulped, Daegin snored.

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stusbunker · 2 months

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Spotless: Rubato

Chapter Fifteen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Lee/Pam, Sam/Madison, Benny, Charlie, Elizabeth

Word Count: 3340

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, mentions of Bela's childhood sexual abuse, lots of drunken shenanigans, Benny's not flirting, just being his own charming self, jealousy, Dean is slipping, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

The week between Christmas and New Years is always a week of stasis, celebratory and lazy, just holding its breath for changes to come. In a word, it’s possibility. You still did some work, but not many requests were coming in and social media was bombarded with gratitude and self reflection. Not many people noticed the band’s lack of posts and you were grateful for not having to make excuses for some family time, for anyone.

Your flight home had been arduous, delays and a layover that just left you a zombie for a solid 36 hours afterwards. You woke up on the morning of New Year’s Eve with a sense of dread. You checked your phone just to be safe and all seemed well, or quiet at least. Annoyed with your brain, you decided to punish your body instead, or practice self-care, depending on who you asked. Your stationary bike had gotten a little dusty while you were out of town, but after a couple miles everything else fell out of focus. The rolling hills made you feel invincible.

It had started as physical therapy after your car accident back in college, but biking had turned into one of your go to hobbies. And as boring and non-creative it sounded, it did you a lot of good when your thoughts got too loud. It was like running away from your problems, but it still benefited you both physically and mentally.

Win win.

By three, you were just waiting to get ready. The outfit you picked out with Bela hung on the back of your closet door still wrapped in the Sister Jo’s bag. You slumped in your robe and scrolled through the news as you waited to switch the wash around.

Different broadcasts covered the various local NYE specials and reminded everyone to drive sober, take the bus or get a ride. You thought Dean said he had gotten rides covered the last you talked, but you weren’t sure who was getting you or when, really. If you needed to meet somewhere to go as a group, you needed to order your ride now or everyone would be waiting on you.

Biting your lip, you called him instead of texting, because your worry was immediate not eventual. He picked up on the third ring, slightly out of breath.

“Hey, Trouble, what’s up?” “What’s the plan for tonight? Are we leaving from your place or are you picking me up? I don’t know where Elizabeth’s Nightowl Cafe actually is, Dean.”

Naturally, he laughed. “Hey, look, it’s not a great time. I’m in wardrobe right now. But I’ll make sure you get home safe. Maybe just head over to Bela’s and we’ll pick you both up on the way?”

“The photoshoot is today?! I could have sworn you already had it.”

“Yeah, well, Christmas took longer than I thought and they wedged me in.”

“Dean—”

“Look, I figured it out. And you didn’t have to hold my hand or anything. Now, look, I gotta drop trough, so if you need to continue this conversation with my dick out, by all means. They’re putting me in white pants, so bye-bye Batman boxers.”

You almost swallowed your tongue.

“Yeah, I’m good. You— you have fun with that.”

“See you tonight.”

“Right, bye.”

You slammed your eyes shut, but the damn visuals still flooded your mind. Gorgeous fucking bastard. You exhaled and called Bela, which was far less of a rollercoaster of a conversation and you agreed to be at her place after five to get ready together.

“You still haven’t said anything about your trip home,” you reminded Bela as she handed you another flute of champagne.

You were both dressed and ready, nibbling on an assortment of cheese and crackers on her oversized kitchen island. From what Dean said about Benny’s cousin’s cooking, dinner was on the agenda, but you had started pregaming and didn’t want to get sloppy too early.

“I’m trying to black it out, honestly. It was such pretentious bullshit. And don’t get me started on my mother’s latest project involving the southern gardens at the summer home,” Bela rolled her eyes and shoved another slice of cheese into her mouth.

“Topiaries?”

“Close, a walking maze. Because apparently Queen Victoria is alive and well,” Bela dusted her hands and raised them in surrender. “At least she didn’t try to force me to bring Dean, that would have ended poorly.”

“Dean is actually really good with moms— but I’m pretty sure he’d get arrested if he had to sit down and have a meal with your dad like he isn’t evil incarnate.”

Bela hummed, sipping her drinking.

You took another bit of cheese and made a sandwich, sensing she was holding something back. “You actually told him about it?”

Bela swallowed and chewed on her words. “Let’s just say Dean and I bonded over our less than stellar fathers, but yeah, I agree with you. In fact he said as much, something about knowing how to hide a body and having a big trunk to drag it away.”

You laughed darkly. “That would be Dean. Prepared, but with violence at the ready.”

“Anyway, setting up another fundraiser for Prevent Together for the new year. Please keep both of your calendars free because I need all my people there, alright?”

“Of course,” you promised, reaching across the butcher block countertop and squeezing her hand. Bela never ceased to amaze you with her strength. You switched gears to grant her some space, “is this the first time you’re meeting the rest of the band?”

“Well, I’ve met Sam. But I’m guessing he’s in on the plan. They’re a bit attached-at-the-hip types?”

You smirked. “Basically a package deal, but I think he’s more protective lately. His girlfriend Madison is fun and I hope they work out, he’s a good guy.”

“So who else do I need to charm?”

“Pamela.”

“Pamela?”

“The drummer, possibly psychic and honestly a little frightening at times. But she’s got a big heart to go with her bluntness. If you can’t convince her, we’re all in for it, because she’s gonna dig. So we’ll make sure you and Dean are on all night. I am definitely snagging some midnight shots, so pucker up, darling.” You teased, but honestly, kissing Dean couldn’t be anything but a treat, even just for a camera.

Maybe you were biased.

“Naturally. Alright, and how does Dean know the owner of the cafe?”

“She’s Benny’s cousin. A good friend and head of tour security, sometimes a personal bodyguard.”

Bela nodded, “I think he’s mentioned him as being on standby if one of our nights out got to be too much.”

You were grateful Bela had paid attention, if she was actually dating Dean, she would know all of this already. The less you had to explain on the spot, the less chance of a slip up.

“Big Cajun guy, total teddy bear. He’ll love you,” you added.

“Nice.”

A mechanical crank sounded somewhere behind you. “Is that—?”

“The garage, they must be here,” Bela gathered the tray and unceremoniously set it inside the fridge.

“How did they get into the garage? I didn’t see you get a text.”

“Dean has the code. Finish your drink,” Bela rushed you.

You slammed the rest of your champagne and added your glass in the sink with Bela’s. Something felt weird that Dean knew Bela’s security override code, but then again you didn’t drive, must be why you didn’t have it.

“Hey— whoa!” Dean’s voice snapped you out of your sleuthing spiral. “Lookin’ good, ladies.”

You turned and took him in, burgundy suit without a tie, a dark undershirt with the collar popped. Fucker.

“Thank you, likewise.” Bela leaned in and pecked his cheek.

Dean turned to you. “All set?”

You looked around for your phone and grabbed it and the charger off of the ledge towards the sidedoor. “Yeap. You?” you asked Bela.

“Do I need a touch up?” she asked, tilting her head side to side for your honest inspection.

“Nope, lipstick did its job. You’re glorious,” you affirmed.

“Right, well, shall we?” Bela gestured toward the door which Dean pushed open for you and Bela to go first. Past Bela’s MG the big door was still open, showing a pair of black SUVs waiting on the curb. As you stepped out onto the short drive, Lee screamed out a backwindow from the first vehicle, “ladies, ladies, ladies, are we ready to have a good time?!”

You laughed, dancing a little up the incline and pumping your fist to an imaginary beat.

“Trouble’s ready! What about you? You gonna give this one a run for his money?” Lee teased and then took a swig off of his own bottle of champagne.

“You can count on it,” Bela said darkly, eyes only on Dean. Everyone cheered as Dean put his hand on the small of her back and kissed her temple.

From the second SUV Sam emerged smirking and opened the door, waving you all inside. It was time to get the show on the road.

You had met Elizabeth a handful of times and everytime you were floored by her natural hospitality. The cafe was closed for the event, where barely thirty of you were gathered in the vintage-diner- themed all night cafe. She had tables set up with appetizers and a bartender working the soda fountain so you could get dessert with your booze if you wanted.

You wondered if Dean had requested the pie, because there were three cut and displayed on a stand with plastic domes to keep them from drying out.

Oldies played from the antique jukebox and everyone mingled as others arrived. You snapped pictures of the guests and the hand painted mural on the wall showcasing blues artists and faces from classic Hollywood. Everything was gorgeous and it was a little overwhelming seeing everyone dressed to the nines, but you remembered how smashing you looked in your outfit and tucked your shoulders back and held your head high.

Eventually, Benny found you and pulled you in for one of his signature bear hugs.

“It’s been too long, doll. Stickin’ to your namesake or have you been behavin’ ?”

You chuckled, pulling back to look up at his handsome face. “Oh you know, I do what I can. You?”

Benny’s bright eyes searched for something and eased you back onto your heels. “Uh, yeah, good. Itchin’ to get back on the road. Working the movie lots is a real pain, glad it’s only temporary.”

The song changed and Benny hummed along, you caught a glimpse of Sam and Madison talking with Bela while Dean and Lee waited in line for drinks.

“I can’t wait for the tour either, I think we all could stand to get back to basics.”

“Boys causing a ruckus for ya?” Benny asked knowingly.

“Nah, just a feeling. They’ve been working too hard more than anything. So a little balance will probably do the trick.”

“Well, that’s what we’re here for. Time to play hard. Wanna dance?” You looked around and sure enough, Lee and Pamela had started swinging to Johnny B. Goode, while some of the other roadies were shuffling along with their partners in a less flamboyant way.

You flexed your knee and decided you were tipsy enough to risk it and your pride for such an earnest proposal. “Lead the way.”

Benny was surprisingly light on his feet for such a sturdy guy and he helped you get in a good groove, just for the song to switch into Patsy Cline. Benny slowed it down into a stroll to fit the song and you giggled as he told you about what his ex Andrea had done now, after getting out of prison for trying to stab him, of all things.

“You are so better off without her,” you told him, patting his chest as the song came to a close.

Dinner was phenomenal: medallion sized steaks that were still juicy inside with spiral cut fried potatoes, green bean almondine and Waldorf salad. There were four tables set for eight set up in the space that would usually hold a dozen two or four seaters. Elizabeth finally took a seat as you were half way through a plate, but you made sure to let her know how amazing everything was.

“Oh, it’s nothing, now make sure you save room for pie. Got Strawberry Rhubarb, Dutch Apple and Blackberry waitin’,” she insisted like a favorite grandmother and not somebody you could have gone to school with.

Dean groaned deeper as she mentioned each variety, making everyone around your table share a knowing look.

“Easy there, Dean might need to claim a pie as his own, you know how he gets. And I am not one for sloppy seconds,” Benny teased.

The table erupted and Dean didn’t even look like he cared. “If she ends up sending me home with a whole pie, it’s my business what happens to it.”

Tears were burning in your eyes from laughter and the lecherous look Dean shot Benny. He was ridiculous.

You turned to Bela, “good thing Sam isn’t at our table or he’d need to excuse himself.”

“It is getting a bit indecent isn’t it?” Bela said out of the side of her mouth.

“Are you raggin’ on me now, too?!” Dean asked aghast.

“Of course not! Just don’t want your girlfriend to get jealous of a pastry,” you quipped.

A low rumble of an accepted burn answered from around the table.

“Hey now, my girl knows what tickles my taste buds, if you know what I’m saying,” Dean shot back, earning him a fist bump from Lee.

Bela rolled her eyes and shrugged, which only made the laughter louder. The humor dissipated until every noise was roaring like the ocean in your ears. This wasn’t even the worst thing you’d heard out of Dean’s mouth, after years of groupies and life on tour, you thought you’d heard and seen it all. But Bela not denying Dean’s prowess in pussy eating suddenly made you feel impossibly lost.

You literally set up the joke and now you wished for anything to take it back.

“Gentleman, please!” Elizabeth broke into the cacophony. “Or no dessert.”

Which promptly set them all off once again, but they got their act together enough to be gracious when the pie did arrive. You had blackberry and it was thick and rich enough to keep you from opening your big mouth again. Also the vodka cranberry you had switched to was a perfect chaser for the sweetness of the filling.

Two more drinks and three hours later, you were in better spirits and a sequined top hat. The noise makers were harder to come by, Madison and Benny fighting over the last one like toddlers over the last Hot Wheel. Sam had to break it up, which meant Madison won anyway, naturally. But at least Benny could still whistle. The countdown was getting close and everyone was crammed together on the makeshift dance floor under the dimmed lights, talking and swaying in circles. Dancing would have been too much with all the anticipation in the air.

You had your camera at the ready, taking small videos of the crowd and snapping selfies with anyone within reach. The lone television behind the counter hopped between coverage of celebrations in Vegas, Seattle and LA. You did a quick scan of your immediate vicinity for Bela and Dean. Finally, you found them next to Pam and Lee, who were sharing a bottle of bourbon between them, while Bela and Dean were whispering and readying their noisemakers and confetti respectively.

“Oooo, two couples one shot! I want you guys to make it count okay, this is for posterity’s sake!” you ordered, framing the shot just as the countdown began.

10…9…8…

Dean pulled Bela close by the waist. Lee tipped back another swig before almost losing his hat to the movement.

7…6…5…

Bela gazed up at Dean’s face and said something you couldn’t hear over the numbers shouting out of every corner of the party.

4…3…2…

Dean leaned in and started kissing Bela before she could get to one, tipping her back until she almost knocked into Lee, who was hauling Pam up by her haunches before starting to tongue fuck right there in front of your camera. You snapped countless shots, screaming and jumping in place as you worked your magic. Hot people doing hot things who were also clearly into it, was marketing gold.

Eat that Crowley.

Sam swooped you up in a hug and wished you happy new year, then came Charlie, who had arrived after dinner with some girls from her LARPing group. After a few elbows to the side, Dean broke from Bela’s mouth and welcomed you and Charlie into a group hug. The speakers blasted Auld Lang Syne and everyone joined in, arms linked and swaying to the stilted beat.

Elizabeth ensured the party was still going, so she had her people put out fresh appetizers and turned the jukebox back on. There was a run for the bathroom and then for refills and before you knew it it was after one. You had a fresh drink in your hand and a circle had formed around you of women grooving to Mustang Sally.

“Ride Sally, RIDE!” you all bellowed.

Bela had taken off her shoes and was holding them over her head as she swayed her hips. You whipped your head and shoulders back and forth feeling loose and timeless. Charlie was snapping and getting soulful as she sang along, knowing every line of the verses even.

Sam Cooke followed Wilson Pickett on the jukebox, slowing it down and sending your little circle off towards their partners. You didn’t care, you just kept swaying and taking turns singing “yeah— yeah!” and sipping your cocktail.

The crowd was thinning and you knew either brother would be corralling the group for the after party at their place shortly. Thank the label for drivers and security all on the craziest night of the year.

“Hey, you good?” Dean’s voice came out of nowhere and you turned towards his warmth, eyes closed and humming.

“Yeah, is it time–?”

“Let’s get off the dancefloor, I can barely hear you,” Dean took your elbow and brought you over to the edge of the counter where the bartender was wiping glasses dry.

“How are you? Need to puke and rally before we get in the car?” Dean asked firmly, testing your sobriety by your answer and the focus of your eyes.

“I’m fine, why? Is Bela puking?” you looked around for your bestie amongst the remaining partygoers.

“No, look, I just, here,” Dean brushed his knuckles against your cheek to get you to look back at him. Once he had your full attention, he leaned in and licked his lips, watching you as you waited for him to finish his thought. And then he was kissing you, hand on the back of your head and impossible lips massaging yours into complete submission.

You shuttered around a breath and opened your mouth for his tongue. That delicious sensation was enough to reset your brain and you pulled back, gasping.

You couldn’t form words and Dean’s face went from sleepy to wary to disappointed all in the blink of an eye.

“Look— you deserve a midnight kiss, too, you know. I just—- thought you should have one,” Dean said in the space between maybe and almost.

You cleared your throat. “Oh, well, I guess it’s okay then. Thanks?”

You couldn’t look him in the eye, you were too shellshocked, too exposed.

“I’ll start getting everybody towards the exit. See you at the cars,” Dean said lowly, fingertips brushing your hip as he moved through your space.

You finished your drink and got a road beer from the blissfully unaware bartender. It was time to slow down, especially if you were going to be in Dean’s space the rest of the night.

Damn it.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Sixteen: Schleppen

#spotless series #dean/reader #dean/bela #slow burn #rockstar au #fake dating #dean angst #dean's got a potty mouth but you love it

59 notes · View notes

lelengerine · 10 months

Text

comfort in you

pairing | streamer!haechan x streamer!reader

synopsis | sometimes (most of the time), you just need a little pick-me-up after a bit of depressing game plot.

genre | fluff, established relationship, mentions of game character death (but nothing explicit)

wc | 1.0k

notes | so i finished watching an entire 13 hour play through of omori and i was so sad i wrote this- highly suggest playing the game for yourself tho its a rollercoaster of emotions </3 as always, lmk your thoughts on this! rts and rbs are appreciated!

m.list

solemn music plays from the speakers connected to your monitor, slowly enveloping your soul with dread as your eyes flicker between the game and the messages flowing into your stream’s chat box.

user_1: NOOOO what do you mean the sister died??

user_2: RIGHT? HOW DID THAT HAPPEN??

user_3: y/n are you sure we didn’t miss a chapter??? my eyes are bawling out TT

a soft chuckle escapes you while reading what your viewers had to say, somewhat relieving you from the heartbreaking arc of the game. “i’m pretty sure this is the right track… i feel my eyes tearing up too, you’re definitely not the only one.”

a couple more messages pop up, but you decide to focus on the game’s storyline for now.

a little girl is hunched over her sister’s hospital bed, sobbing after the realization her beloved sibling was never going to wake up after falling from the top of the staircase in their home.

a tear slowly falls down your cheek while you stay silent and continue watching, hoping your viewers wouldn’t notice it if you act unfazed. though, it seems they have eyes sharper than you think.

user_4: Y/N DONT CRY :((( NOW IM CRYING TOO

user_5: SOMEONE GET THE EMERGENCY TISSUES!!!!!

“pshh, i’m not crying, chat!” you feign with a not-so convincing pout. you clearly have a soft spot for these type of family-oriented game plots, enjoying how they touch into the lives of people and the complexities behind them.

its during times like this where you yearn for your boyfriend, haechan, more than anything, but… you’re pretty sure he’s busy streaming another game in a different room. you face falls into a slight frown thinking about it, one your chat assumes is because of the sad story coming to a close.

a white screen snaps you out of your thoughts, signaling the game had finally ended and you turn to face the camera filming your face cam. “so… what do we think?” you ask, giving a warm smile.

user_6: GOD THAT WAS TOO MUCH

user_7: thank the heavens its done

user_8: wtf just happened…

“right? to be honest- im pretty overwhelmed.” you speak, taking a sip from your water jug next to you in hopes of letting the immense feeling dissipate, but that only does little in actually quelling it. you could really use a hug from haechan right about now… it wouldn’t hurt to leave chat for a moment right?

“i’ll just go get something quickly then we can try to unpack the plot of the game a little better.” you tell your viewers before standing up from your computer chair and rushing over to haechan’s room.

as you approach the white door sealing his room from the hallways, you hear a string of curses pass your ears. “jisung you little shit! i said to your right not your left- no, no!! YOUR left not MY left.”

slowly, you peek through the door, getting a glimpse of your boyfriend seemingly fuming over a round of overwatch, but you (and his viewers) know that’s just how he plays — and it’s quite entertaining to hear the banter between him and his friends.

“jaemin revive me. im by the corner- JUST WHERE ARE YOU ON THE MAP??? ahhh, im screwed for real.” he whines as his screen displays that he died in game, slumping back into his chair as he waits for the next round to start. “you guys better carry this game or else-“

“hyuck?” you finally speak up, pushing the door a little more to make room for yourself to enter. haechan’s chat goes crazy after seeing you enter his room, mostly filling up with messages to greet your entrance.

“sorry… i didn’t want to interrupt but you see- this game i was playing… it was so sad and i-“ you get cut off by your boyfriend reeling you into a hug.

you don’t even need to listen in on his earphones to hear the coos from his friends, already used to their teasings when you and haechan are together.

“let me guess, another one about family?” oh he really just reads you like an open book, his voice much softer in comparison to how he was speaking earlier. you feel so loved knowing he pays attention to the smallest details about you.

“mhm. i just wanted a hug.”

“and that, you’re getting.” he chuckles, rubbing small, soothing circles on your back with his thumb.

his embrace is warm. just what you needed after an intense, downcast game. you already feel yourself fueling back up with positivity, pulling away after a couple more seconds.

“thank you.” you smile sheepishly, feeling a little awkward his viewers just watched that entire exchange from the camera resting on top of his monitor. “i should get back to my own stream now though.” you add, giving haechan a small kiss on the cheek before waving a goodbye towards his camera.

“i’ll give you all the cuddles and kisses later.” haechan tells you, patting your head as he lets you leave his room.

“i’ll be anticipating that.” you giggle before shutting the door behind you, and returning to your own streaming room.

“chat! sorry that took so long, but im back now!” you exclaim quite cheerily, a considerable difference to your gloomy expressions earlier.

user_9: welcome back our love <3 you look like you’re feeling much better yay

user_2: yayy happy y/n is back!

user_10: y/n was in hyuck’s stream!! they were so cute :[

user_7: omg really? man i should’ve checked it out-

you flush, realizing your actions have been found out. then again, it wasn’t that difficult for someone to know what you were doing when your boyfriend’s stream was publicized just like yours.

“a-alright now, settle down everyone.” you chuckle, “now, what did you guys discuss so far?”

the query has your chat switching topics in the blink of an eye, something you’re rather grateful for — knowing the blush on your cheeks already gave you away long ago. still, you'd say everything was worth it for that hug.

#nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct angst #nct dream angst #haechan fluff #haechan angst #donghyuck fluff #donghyuck angst #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles

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omgrachwrites · 3 months

Text

Heather - Chapter Two

Pairing: Lip Gallagher x Bartender!Reader

Summary: You’ve fallen for the smart college kid who frequents the bar your work in. The only problem? He has a girlfriend.

Warnings: fluff, angst, swearing

A/N: I'm sorry this is so late! Hope you guys enjoy, please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

masterlist

Chapter Two

Dinner was painful, both physically and mentally, it was painful every time Heather reached across the table to hold Lip’s hand. It was painful every time your parents cooed and fawned over him, you could see it in their eyes that they disapproved of him. But, they wouldn’t say anything, nothing against their darling daughter’s boyfriend. The worst part was that Lip believed every word they said, couldn’t he tell they were bullshitting?

Lip looked at your sister with so much fondness in his blue eyes that it hurt to watch, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from them. All you could do was sit back and drink your wine. The dreaded question came about halfway through the first course.

“So, how did you two meet?” your dad asked as he took a sip of his whiskey.

Your sister practically glowed at the question as she grinned over at Lip, “when he walked into my English lecture and sat behind me, kicking my chair the whole time,” she giggled.

You paused slightly and looked over at Lip who was hunched over his plate and you could see a flush starting to form on his cheeks. You remembered how much he had complained about having to take an English class and you talked him into it, telling him you would help out as much as you could. He’d met you first and he still chose her? It stung.

Just before dessert, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, you had to catch your breath and force the tears back. You decided to text Jess.

‘I need to get out of here, gonna leave before dessert, have a glass ready for me? xx’

She texted you back a couple of minutes later, ‘you know it! Xx’

Taking a deep breath, you plastered a smile on your face and left the bathroom, both Heather and Lip looked up at you as you walked back in, “I have to get going.”

Your parents looked like they couldn’t care less, while Heather and Lip spoke in unison, “you do?”

You nodded, “yeah,” you smiled as you pulled your sweet sister into a hug, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Heather smiled, “yeah, next time I’ve got a day off we’ll go for lunch.”

You nodded, though you knew what lunch with your sister would entail, she would gush about Lip the whole time. The guy you had practically fallen for, “it was nice to meet you, Lip,” you gave him a tight smile.

He nodded but didn’t say anything back.

You glanced back at Heather, “I’ll text you,” you smiled before you walked out of the door.

Before you could get down the porch steps, you heard footsteps behind you, “Y/N, wait.”

You glanced over your shoulder to see Lip hurrying after you with a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He was so gorgeous, it hurt.

“So, what? We have to pretend like we don’t know each other?”

You sighed as you looked at his face, “it’s for the best, after all, you’re just some guy that comes into the bar,” your tone was nonchalant and you had to play it like he meant nothing to you. A look of hurt flickered over his face and in that moment, you hated yourself.

“You know that’s not all we are, I wanted to make an agreement that we wouldn’t make things awkward. I know we both like a bit of a flirt,” he chuckled and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

The only thought in your head was that you had to protect yourself, “you realise that’s my job, right? I get more tips if I flirt with men.”

Lip raised an eyebrow, a response quick on his tongue, “but you never let me pay.”

You rolled your eyes, all you wanted to do was tell him how you felt. But you couldn’t, “whatever, Lip.”

Lip took a drag of his cigarette as he ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t know what I’ve done to upset you, but whatever it is, Y/N, I’m sorry.”

You shrugged as you kicked a stone onto the driveway, “I guess you’ll be wanting your sweater back?”

“What?”

He didn’t remember? “the sweater that you let me borrow when the heating was broken at the bar.”

“Yeah, Y/N,” he nodded, “I remember the sweater, why the hell would I want that back? I gave it to you, you look much better in it,” he chuckled.

“Thought you might want to give it to your girlfriend.”

Lip bit his lip as he shook his head, “I didn’t give it to her. I gave it to you,” his voice was so soft and sincere.”

“I gotta go, Lip. I’ll see you,” you smiled weakly and this time he let you walk away.

As soon as you walked into the bar, Jess saw the look on your face and she poured more wine into your glass until it was full to the brim. Without a word you walked behind the bar and gulped the wine down, almost finishing half of it in one go.

“I take it dinner went great?” she laughed, before you could reply or even make a face you spotted Ian, Lip’s younger brother walk out of the bathroom.

“Hi, Y/N,” he smiled as he sat at the bar and took a sip of his drink, “what’s wrong?” he asked with a laugh when you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Did you know your brother had a girlfriend?” you asked.

Ian shrugged, “I knew he was seeing someone, I thought,” he trailed off, biting his lip. He only answered when you raised an eyebrow in question, “I thought he was seeing you.”

You scoffed as you took another gulp of your wine, “close, he’s dating my sister.”

Ian’s eyes widened and Jess let out a gasp of shock as she rubbed your shoulder, “oh sweetie, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

You thought about it for a minute, were you okay? Eventually, you settled on a nod, “yeah I’m okay. A little hurt that he met me first and he still wanted her,” you thought back to the conversation you’d had with him outside the house, “oh god, I was such a bitch to him.”

With another large glass of wine, you told your friends what had happened outside the house and how you tried to make it out like Lip meant nothing to you. Ian smirked – it seemed like the first time Lip had been given the cold shoulder by a girl – while Jess gave you a disappointed look. The guilt only grew as you drank more wine and you knew that you needed to apologise. If he apologised would he forgive you?

When Jess went into the back to get more wine, Ian looked at you, “you know I am a little surprised that he’s dating your sister. Did you have a boyfriend when you guys met?”

“No, why?” you asked and Ian bit his lip, you knew he was contemplating how much to tell you, “oh come on, don’t do that! You can’t just start and not finish.”

Ian laughed as he ran a hand through his short hair, “god, would you just chill? Lip’s my best friend. Mostly, we tell each other everything and when he first met you he came home raving about how he’d just met the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You flushed, hoping it was true, “then why is he dating my sister?”

Ian shrugged with a sad look, “I don’t know, because he’s an idiot,” he chuckled, “look Lip cares about you, he’d never hold a grudge against you,” he smiled, answering your silent question before he checked his watch and slid off the bar stool, “I gotta get to work, how about you come over next Friday for dinner? Lip comes down from college.”

You scoff, “I’m not going if he’s bringing my sister.”

Ian grinned, “Lip usually comes over way before dinner. How about I text you and let you know?”

“That would be great,” you grinned and waved at him as he left the bar.

You decided that now would be a good time as any to call Lip, it would definitely be better to do it now before you got drunk and started another argument with him. Or told him too much. Shelving your pride, you selected his name from your contacts and called him. It rang for a little bit too long and you were worried he was ignoring your call. Just before you were about to hang up, he answered.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi,” you smiled, relieved when he answered.

“So, what can I do for you?” he prompted you when you fell silent and you had almost forgotten why you were calling.

“I wanted to apologise,” you sighed, “you were right, we are more than just strangers, you know if you want I can tell Heather that we know each other? I’ll make up some excuse to why I was pretending like I didn’t know you,” you laughed.

“No, no, it’s okay. Don’t tell her, you were right, it would be best if she didn’t know that we already know each other,” he paused, “I accept your apology by the way, I’m sorry too.”

“I don’t like fighting with you.”

“Me neither,” another pause, “does that mean you’ll help me with the Gatsby essay?” you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Wow, just using me for my amazing writing skills?” you giggled, “why don’t you ask my sister? You guys can have a little middle school study date,” you fought hard to keep the bitterness out of your voice.

Lip laughed, “oh shut up! Besides, my plagiarising off of you is something special that we share, don’t want to ruin it.”

“Of course not,” you giggled.

“Listen, I gotta go but thanks for the call and I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, “bye, Lip.”

“See you later, Y/L/N,” he laughed before hanging up the phone.

You smiled, you were glad that you had managed to work things out, it didn’t mean you had to like it though. Though you supposed you’d better get used to it if you wanted to keep your relationship with Heather and your sister intact. You wondered whether Jess could introduce you to any cute guys.

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

Taglist: @heyits-zedo

#lip gallagher #phillip gallagher #lip x y/n #lip x reader #lip gallagher x reader #bartender!reader #reader insert #college!lip #college au #fluff #lip gallagher x you #lip x you

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wisteria-cherry · 6 months

Text

forty days and forty nights (day thirty-six!)

(warning: slight spoilers from chapters 403 and following chapters! (bakugo can now sweat nitroglycerin from his entire body))

shaken as you were, you were determined not to get katsuki involved. you were certain that it would sort itself out, and, if all else fails, the police are perfectly good at catching criminals. heroes are just… a bonus.

katsuki had to patrol after he left the shop; he had a meeting, so he had kirishima cover the couple hours he’d needed for it. katsuki would continue the patrol after his coffee. so, you didn’t ask him to walk you home that day.

big mistake.

your shift was a blur. katsuki had come in, and made an off handed comment about how you look distracted, but you’d quickly shut it down and resumed your regular small talk. katsuki had left, you had closed, and you were now walking home on a crisp thursday afternoon. you were horrified, but not surprised, to find that the man was following you, albeit from a distance.

you abruptly turn around, fed up with him.

“why are you following me?” you demand. the man looks slightly taken aback, before glancing around nervously.

“‘m not following you.” the man snapped. you furrow your brow, hesitating for only a second before bolting.

you could feel your body screaming. you were running as fast as you could, but you could feel him. you could hear the pounding of the pavement behind you, hear the crunch of the leaves under his shoes. you felt sweat drip down your face and the muscles in your legs burn, despite the cool, november air. you gulped in dry breaths that were so deep they made your lungs hurt.

go go go go don’t stop you have to get—

you felt a wave of dread crash over your body. you couldn’t go to your apartment. you can’t go home or he’ll know where you live— assuming he doesn’t already. assuming your hallucination from that night were real.

where the hell do i go?

you frantically look around as you try to find somewhere to go instead. suddenly, your eyes lock in on a townhouse on the corner of two streets. you recognized it— the owners painted it with flowers, and had a pretty garden.

it was also on katsuki’s patrol route.

you glance at the road. there were cars— not too many— but then were stopped—red light. you skid to the left, running across the crosswalk as the orange numbers ticked down the seconds.

you felt like the breath was being stolen from you as you run, stumbling slightly, down the street by the flower house.

you look back, only to see the man gaining on you. he had a knife— ten of them. his nails. his nails could become knives. oh my god. oh my god. you pull out your phone as you run, your fingers flying as they frantically type in your password. wrong one. you type it again, and choke back a whimper as it unlocks and your thumb slams on the call button as you look back up, trees planted next to the sidewalk flying past.

nononononono

you scroll as fast as you can down your contacts, trying to locate katsuki’s name, and then you do and then you press call and then—

your foot hits something.

one glance tells you it was a tree root that sent you to the ground, skidding slightly, feeling the scratchy cement sidewalk claw at your skin. you barely register the yelp your voice produces, instead focused on the phone that slid out of your grip as it rang.

calling…

you try to scream, but your dry throat didn’t produce a sound.

calling…

“stop-“ you finally manage to croak out as the man slowed to a menacing prowl, his fist gripping the knife. “please—“

calling…

“dunno why y’gotta be so damn loud.” the man snarled. “fuckin’ annoyin’, f’ya ask me.”

00:00

“i’m on patrol, make it quick, dumbass.”

your attention whips to the phone, and you scramble away from the man, closer to the phone.

“flower house—“ you gasp out, “flower- flower house— no!” your voice elevates into a shriek as the man suddenly stomps on your phone, shattering the screen to pieces.

“the fuck’s that, huh?” he grins, revealing a set of yellowed teeth. “better not be tellin’ on me.”

you know you’re hyperventilating. you can tell. but you can’t figure out what to do. what do you do? he’s armed, you’re not. you try to even your breathing, try to stop thinking about what your loved ones will do once you’re dead.

“please—“ breathe in, breathe out. “please don’t do this. i don’t— i don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

“i don’t hafta answer you.” the man snapped. “you better shut yer pretty mouth up, huh? shut it up before i shut it for ya.”

“don’t have to answer? you’ve been stalking me and now you’re threatening me— and i don’t even get to know why?” you hiss, anger slowly starting to bubble up. you continue to breathe, trying to stay level-headed. an outburst would surely get you hurt.

“hell naw. listen here, you little-“ the man stops, and so do you. you tilt your head, listening close. an undeniable crackle, not unlike the sound of sparklers. the man turns around.

katsuki.

he’s walking slowly, menacingly, towards the man. the man stiffens— he knows who dynamight is.

“absolutely not.” katsuki stalks towards you and the man. you’d never found his massive figure to be intimidating— not til now. “absolutely the fuck not.”

“there’s nothing happening.” the man said stiffly as katsuki stepped closer. the man turned to face you and reached your wrist. “my daughter, she just fell s’all— c’mon, young’in, up ye go-“ katsuki’s massive hand ripped the man’s hand away from your wrist. how did he get there so fast?

“i said, absolutely the fuck not.” katsuki rumbled, before clocking the man in the face, knocking him out, just like that. the man crumpled, and katsuki clicked on quirk suppressors for good measure. katsuki’s expression changed, softened, undid the contorted snarl and furrowed eyebrows. pretty red eyed stared down at you before crouching down to your level.

“oi. you call the police yet?” katsuki asked in that gravelly voice of his. you shake your head, before pointing quietly to your crushed phone.

“tch. that explains it.” katsuki scowled. standing up, he pulled out his phone, dialing what was without a doubt the police. “just gimme one second, sweetheart, ‘m gonna call the police for ya.” you nod, curling your scraped knees to your chest.

“it’s dynamight.”

a pause.

“yeah. no, a civilian almost got attacked by some fuckwad—“

another pause.

“no, i’m not gonna refer to him as a civilian too, he’s a goddamn asshole.”

“goddammit, will you shut the hell up and send some damn police? someone’s gotta take this fuck away, i can’t do it right now, i got shit to do.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever. fuck you. you got my location or what?”

“…yeah, okay.”

“yeah, she’s fine, just some scrapes from fallin’.”

“yeah.”

“yeah, okay.”

katsuki hung up, then turned back to you, crouching down on the pavement.

“can ya stand up?” he asked. he frowned, studying your expression. “…you’re crying.”

“oh.” you bring your hand to your face, feeling the tear trails on your cheek. you look around. “i can stand up.” but once you tried, you found that your legs were numb. totally numb. you stumbled, and you fell to the ground again, only for katsuki to catch you.

“hey, easy.” he warned, his hands holding your waist securely. katsuki eased you down to sit so close to him that you may as well be in his lap. once you were stable, he slipped his gloves off, wiping them on his baggy pants, probably to wipe the sweat off. his hands held your face, and his eyes studied yours. you were too exhausted to react. he must have found something in your face (which you later learned were your then-dilated pupils) because he said, “you’re in shock, dumbass, don’t move yet.”

“ok.” you agree. you glance at the unconscious man. his nose was gushing blood. you shudder and quickly turn your attention back to katsuki.

“can ya breathe f’me?” katsuki’s question seemed to make you realize how incredibly fast your breathing actually was. “c’mon, deep breaths.”

you nod. your eyes were unfocused, looking in the general direction of katsuki’s chest, and your ears just barely registered his voice. regardless, you matched his breaths as he breathed in, out, in, out.

you and katsuki continued to breathe together as bright red-and-blue lights lit up the road. this time, though, katsuki had picked you up, holding you like a baby so that you could bury your face in the crook of his neck if you so chose, one massive hand placing itself on your back to make sure you kept breathing as he talked to the cops. the cops took the man and left, leaving you and katsuki once more.

“you gonna tell me what happened?” he asked finally as your breathing stabilized and the tears slowed down. he was walking back towards the direction of the coffee shop— or maybe his agency. probably the latter.

“yeah.” you agreed, your voice scratchy. you pause for a moment, trying to find a way to keep it short. the last thing you wanted was to relive the events of thirty minutes ago. “he’d been stalking me for days. then i confronted him then ran. he chased me. that’s it.”

“stalking? why didn’t you tell me?” katsuki frowned. “that asshole’s being arrested for attempted assault. stalking’s a whole other charge to be added.” you shrug. truth be told, you just wanted to go to sleep and be done with it. katsuki sighed.

“well, whatever.” he grumbled. “listen… you probably don’t wanna be alone tonight, do you? lotta people don’t after this kind of thing.” you shook your head. he was spot-on.

“you want me to call up pinky? she’ll let you crash if you—“

“you.” you interrupt. katsuki stopped, his hand putting just a little more pressure on your back as he stiffened.

“…you wanna crash at my place.” he confirmed. you nod.

“if i can.” you add. katsuki stayed quiet for a moment before exhaling.

“yeah, whatever. dumbass.” katsuki huffed, boots scraping against the pavement. “you need to get anything from your place?”

“no.” you lied. you did technically need a change of clothes, pajamas, and hygiene products, but at this point, you didn’t care. you didn’t want to go back there right now. katsuki gave you a skeptical look, but didn’t protest.

“i’m gonna blast us back, got it? it’s gonna be loud, so cover your damn ears.” katsuki looked up towards the star-speckled sky, shifting you to one muscly arm. “ready?”

“…you’re crying.”

“oh.”

(feel free to comment + leave ur thoughts :)

tags: @k0z3me @stevenknightmarc @failingstudents-blog @cherryblossomclarity @jazzafayesworld @faerikitty

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou #bnha #mha #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo oneshot #coffee shop au #pro hero bakugo x reader #pro hero au #pro hero bakugo

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thecreelhouse · 3 months

Text

tramps like us

Paring: Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader

CW/tags: angst, hurt and not much comfort, PTSD, language, a smidge of fluff

WC: 4.1k

Summary: Gator was supposed to come home to you, but he admits to becoming tangled up in his old life, before even starting his new one, with you. Without warning, he falls silent, leaving you in the dark as your fears run wild.

〘 this is a sequel to part time soulmate, full time problem ✧.┊⁭listen to the series playlist here. ✧.┊read on AO3 〙

A/N: hi y’all, tysm for any support on this so far. I’m hoping this reaches the folks who kept asking for a sequel, so please don’t hesitate to leave feedback or reblog if you like this so far 🥺 if you do read this, enjoy <3

chapter 1 ✧. ┊

first thing to go - hayley williams

◁◁ ▐ ▌ ▷▷

⋆｡♪ First thing to go was the sound of his voice / It echoes still, I’m sure, but I can’t hear it

Was it gentle or cold? Or maybe just noise? / I heard what I wanted, until I couldn’t. ♬ ₊˚.

══════════════════

It had been one week. One entire week since you came home from North Dakota, after attempting to visit your family for the holidays, an attempt made out of the last bit of familial loyalty fueled by the tiniest bit of guilt left in you.

Ten days set aside to hopefully, maybe, patch up whatever bond might be left between your parents and you. Unsurprisingly, not a shred of that bond existed. If you were being honest to yourself, that bond didn’t exist to begin with.

Instead, you rediscovered a bridge you believed was burned to ashes and buried long ago, with someone you believed you’d never hear from or see again. From childhood best friends to complete enemies, you dreaded the idea of having to spend three days with Gator Tillman. Fate had a sick joke up its sleeve, snowing in the two of you together for an entire week. A week you never dreamed would bring you to confessing feelings you had shoved to the back of your mind nearly a decade ago.

Now, one week after a teary-eyed and reluctant goodbye, you still haven’t heard from Gator when he promised he’d be here by now. Well, he hasn’t contacted you at least since New Year’s Eve, where you called him at midnight; as all of the other couples kissed as the past year rolled into the next, you were trying to find the quietest room in the house to talk to him.

“Damn, sounds wild on your end,” Gator laughed as he tried making out your words between loud, joyful sounds that filtered in through the empty blanks.

You pout, despite him not being able to see it. “You owe me a kiss, Tillman.”

“Next week, I promise. Can ya’ hang on ‘til then?”

“Hm, not quite sure, might die going that long without it.” Your teasing comment slid past him, distracted on his end. Only silence followed. “Gator?”

“Yeah?”

“… You are comin’ here next week, right?”

Asking a question like this, doubting his original intentions, all while drunk, was just a recipe for abandonment issues to flare back up.

“Yes, why wouldn’t I?” He didn’t sound irritated or upset that you questioned this, more concerned if anything. “Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

Maybe you were just overthinking things. After all, it had only been a day since you got home. Physically, he’s distant, but not emotionally. At least, you don’t think.

“No! No, you’re totally fine, Gator. M’sorry, just… just really miss you, is all.” That didn’t sound less pathetic than admitting the truth of fearing he was leaving you again.

“I’m comin’ home soon, darlin’, I promise. You’ve got no idea how much I want this week to be over with already. I just wanna be with you again.”

That’s when something clicked in your mind, and your stomach dropped. “… Does your dad have you workin’ some fucked up job again?”

Gator’s sigh weighed down with guilt came through the phone, heavy and pained.

“Fuck… you can’t be serious, Gator. What the fuck?!”

“I- I can explain—“

“Didn’t you severely hurt him the night we left the house?” You found yourself touching the healing wound on your face, now properly bandaged thanks to Ivy— a house mate and your best friend— and her professional nursing skills. She was pretty impressed that Gator did as decent of a job as he could with the few supplies he had on hand. That was something you wanted to tell him over the call, but now you’re just consumed by negative emotions, snaking around you before constricting the air from your lungs.

“Yeah, well, y’know Roy, he refuses to give up to anythin’, especially livin’. He’s like a goddamn cockroach.” His remark dripped in a vitriolic venom, something he once was terrified to ever voice out loud before last week’s disaster. “At least he ain’t bringin’ up what I did to him.”

Ignoring his last comment, you snap, “And doing his dirty work is justifiable? What the fuck is he making you do?”

Gator paused, feeling sick as he thought about what his dad has made him do so far in just the last twenty-four hours. “I— It’s fine. Look, I’m just doin’ this one last time, I’m wanted to secure extra funds for us—“

“Huh? Gator, we’re fine—“

“M’just tryin’ to help things in the future, alright?” He murmured, regretting his choices already.

“What things? We can cross those bridges when we get to them. Gator, you’re not… this makes no sense to me right now.” You were so lost in all of this. “Y’know the only reason he makes you do shit like this, whatever the fuck it is this time, is ‘cause if things go south, you’re the one with blood on your hands, not him.”

He answered without hesitation, “I know.”

You wanted to shake some sense into Gator, wanted to scream into the phone and tell him to forget it, forget moving here, forget coming home to you. Except you knew damn well you’d regret that, and he still needed somewhere to go, far from the danger he’s in right now.

You still needed to be Gator’s safe place, his lighthouse, but the waves are already cresting to a terrifying height, where the only way down is with destruction as it crashes into the rocks on the shore below.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Gator. Can you get out of this? Please? I- I’ll get ya’ a ticket to fly out tomorrow.” You pleaded, desperate to protect him from a downfall that could end in him disappearing, just like his mother. “Gator, you promised me you’d be careful. You pinky promised.”

“I did. And I’m sorry, y’got no idea how sick this entire thing has me. If I leave now, there’s…” He paused, sparing you from the twisted details. “… it’s complicated.”

“Well, make it uncomplicated! Fuckin’ hell, I’ll come out there and deck Roy’s lights out if it helps ya’ get out of this. I need you safe. I need you here, Gator. I need you.” You didn’t mean to bring the last three words to life; it’s true, you did need him, but it felt so selfish to say right now.

This would’ve been the moment Gator would tease you for how feisty you get when you’re angry, talking a big game with little to show, but you meant well.

Nothing of the sort came out of his mouth, though.

“You still trust me?”

“Barely.” You didn’t mean to spit it out so harshly, or honestly, at all. “M’sorry—“

“It’s fine, ya’ got every right to be mad.” He sounded drained, worn down.

“I’m not mad, Gator. I’m livid that you think putting yourself in danger is okay, I’m fuckin’ scared for you.” You were sobering up quickly from the conversation, but the fear made you nauseous. “Nothin’ I say can change this, huh?”

“It’s not like I ain’t comin’ at all. I am. Just… be patient. Please?”

You wanted to throw a fit, tell him to keep his blood money, but your throat ran dry, scared to hurt him further. So you suppressed how you really felt, kept it to yourself.

“Okay, Gator. Just text me, or call me. Somethin’, anythin’. Even if it’s quick, I just wanna know you’re a—“

Alive. You just wanted to make sure he would still be alive by the end of the week. It felt wrong to say out loud, like you’d jinx his safety before he could even make it home. So you pumped the brakes before the word could slip out.

Gator knew what you were about to say, but he didn’t want to upset you any further. “I will, darlin’. I love you, y’know that? I really do.”

You knew that, but you didn’t like the cost that came along with this love, for either of you.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The well-worn door to your apartment is flung open, slamming against the wall, except the sound is muffled; you learned long ago that Ivy couldn’t bring herself to settle her obnoxious entrances, so you’ve got a landing pad on the wall of thick styrofoam, ready to catch the antique brass doorknob every time she welcomes herself in.

In your first year of living in this old townhouse, the door slamming open used to startle you. Now, you don’t even flinch. Your poor cat, Lovebug, does, though; his black fur stands on end as he leaps from your lap.

“There she is!” Ivy’s cheery voice echoed through the apartment, kicking her foot back to shut the door. “I brought you iced coffee, with— oh. Oh, honey.”

Perched in the bay window, you curled up in a large quilt, a thrifted one from years ago, with constellations stitched from metallic gold thread into the dark navy fabric. You couldn’t tear your face away from the street below, afraid you’d miss Gator if he finally would show up.

As Ivy shuffles over with the coffee, handing it gingerly to you, she softly informs, “Flor said to take all of the time you need, she’s got the shop covered no problem.”

There was no way you could focus on running your side of the used book and record shop, hanging by a thread as you waited desperately to hear anything from Gator… But it wasn’t like being glued to the window all day, stuck in your spiraling thoughts, was good for your mental health, either.

As you turn to face her, she stifles a gasp; the circles under your eyes have never been darker, while your eyes are completely bloodshot. “When did you last sleep? Are you staying hydrated? Fuck, it’s not the flu that’s been going around, is it?”

You shake your head, unable to speak, too fatigued to form your thoughts into words.

At first, Ivy’s friendship came on strong, but after some time, you realized you needed a friend like her; loyal, kind, but also tough as nails, and had no problem threatening any dude who tried groping you at the club. She was also a nurse, and was always tending to everyone’s health ailments, trying to save trips to the doctor or hospital.

“C’mon, I should change this,” She feathers her touch along your healing cut, inspecting it. “It’s healing nicely already.”

You nod, on autopilot as she leads you to your bathroom, with medical supplies as a semi-permanent fixture on the counter. You settle yourself onto the closed toilet seat and wait patiently as she disinfects supplies and her hands, immediately rolling gloves over her hands. Lovebug curiously follows the two of you, settled down from the startling noise moments ago.

While she gets started, she asks the same question she’s asked the past week. “Nothing from Gator, I guess?”

You don’t cry when she asks this. You stopped crying over the question two days ago, growing numb to the idea you’d ever hear from him again.

“Nothin’.” You look away as Ivy’s cleaning your wound, heart sinking like a goddamn stone in your chest at the thought of radio silence for a week. “I’ve called and texted, and he hasn’t responded once.”

Ivy knew the situation, at least, as much as you could tell a close friend without sharing intimate details of someone else’s life story. “You’re sure it’s his dad, and not another reas—”

You shake your head, but bump into Ivy’s hand, hissing at the dull ache. “Sorry.” Your cat hops back into your lap, purring affectionately as he makes himself comfortable again.

“Just stay still for a minute longer, you’re doing great, girlie pop.” She murmurs, tugging a laugh out of your weak self. The sound is music to your best friend’s ears, curling the corners of her lips up into a smile.

“I told ya’, we’re too old for Gen-Z slang.” You’re giggling, and Ivy laughs softly with you. Her shoulders relax as you show you’re not completely numb. Not yet.

Your phone vibrates against the tiled counter, echoing in the bathroom and startling the two of you. Ivy knows you’ve been keeping your phone close, and backs up as you lean forward to grab it. You don’t look at the number, just answer it frantically. “Hello?” Ivy waits in suspense, until she watches your face fall.

“Yeah, Ty, I know what tomorrow is.” You watch Ivy’s face twist in irritation before grabbing your phone.

“Dude, seriously? You know she’s been waiting for an important c— yes, I know, but you could’ve texted her. Or called me. Come on, man.” She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose as she squeezes her eyes shut. “Yeah, yeah alright, I’ll tell her.” She hangs up and puts your phone aside before replacing her gloves and tending to you again. “Nothing against Ty, but I swear he’s got rocks for brains.”

You force a laugh, only coming out in a weak huff. “S’okay, he didn’t mean any harm. I bet those rocks in his head are, like, painted ones. Y’know, the ones people paint and leave for others to find? Good intentions, just….”

“Unnecessary at times?”

“You said it, not me.”

Ivy finishes your new wound dressing; you’ve healed enough to get away with only butterfly bandages, so the re-bandaging process has become quicker, thankfully.

“Thanks, Ives.” You force a smile, heading back to the living room, Lovebug cradled in your arms. Ivy nods as she trails behind you. “What did Ty want anyway?”

She grabs her coffee, settling in on your couch with her legs bent pretzel style. “He was just reminding us it’s our turn to cook for family dinner night.”

“As if you wouldn’t put that in your planner and phone reminders.” You chuckle, picking your coffee up before sitting next to her. Before taking a giant gulp you point out, “He’s the one who forgets his turn, not us.”

Ivy scoffs, hand up in a ‘stop’ pose, “Don’t even get me started, girlie pop.”

You groan with an exaggerated eye roll, but can’t help laughing into your words, “Ives, we’re not hip!”

“Yeah, well, we’re not old enough for senior discounts yet,” She chuckles, relieved to see you feel emotions other than anxiety and dread, “so I’ll say what I want.”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

At the end of each month, you and all of the tenants would get together to make dinner as a thank you to Bea— affectionately called Mama Bea by some of you, for her maternal aura— for the affordable rent and unconditional kindness, and to catch up with one another with quality family time. It’s something that would’ve made your stomach churn back home, but here, you look forward to it every time.

The night before you left for North Dakota, you cherished the found family get-together more than usual. This wasn’t the kind of familial love you’d find back home, your childhood home, that is. Forced politeness for the sake of keeping sweet didn’t exist here; each month there was a guarantee for some kind of friendly, playful banter, like the lot of you were lifelong siblings.

The whole group made sure to go around at the end of these routine nights, stating one thing, anything you were thankful for that month. From the tiniest of victories, to the most impactful life milestones, and everything in between, it was shared. Shared without the fear of judgment, and with the most understanding people you’ve been lucky to stumble upon.

Everyone had shared what they were thankful for this month, except you. It came naturally to your fellow housemates; Miles kicked it off, mentioning how he was grateful for the holiday bonus he was given, and how it helped fund the party before winter break for his class, recalling the joy on all the first graders’ faces when they realized they all got a small gift. He knew some kids wouldn’t have gifts to wake up to this year, so to give them even an ounce of that joy made his entire year.

Flor was thankful she was able to make dinner this month without burning it on everyone. Jinx brought up that she was going home to see her family, and her mother, possibly for the last time due to end stage cancer. She expressed gratitude for one last chance to hug her mom, spend time with her, even if the future seemed dismal with an imminent death on the horizon.

Frankie shared how blessed he felt that he and his partner would be welcoming a little one into the world soon. He was moved out already with them, all set up in the home their family would start a brand new chapter in. He was grateful for Bea and his fellow housemates, promising they’d be visiting with the baby often. You were already working on crocheting a baby blanket for them.

Ivy was grateful for the therapy dogs at the hospital she worked at. Not just for herself, but for the kids stuck in the children’s wing for the holidays. The way their faces lit up, she said, were brighter than the Christmas tree down in Rockefeller plaza.

Ty thanked Ivy for talking to some doctors to finally set up appointments to discuss top surgery. He expressed relief in even just knowing in the near future he’d be so much closer to the gender euphoria he’s always deserved as a trans man.

Bea expressed gratitude for everyone, and for the life she’s been able to live thus far, and the ability to share it with you all.

“What about you, sunshine?” Ivy asked you, curious. You never got tired of the way they all still called you by the nickname that stuck years ago. No one remembers where it came from, who started it, but it might as well be your legal name by now.

It took a minute, but you answered, “I’m thankful to have a home to come back to. A real home. A real family to be a part of. Thankful for Mama Bea’s generosity and open heart. I know this trip back west is gonna be a shitstorm, but knowing I’ll be coming back to you all is already helping me get through what’s bound to come. So, thanks, y’all.”

While your words were true, you were definitely rambling from the alcohol buzzing in your system. Just enough to make you chatty and giggly.

“That’s sweet, but are you gonna talk more about that guy? You think you’ll see him again?” Jinx prodded, nosy as hell, but she never had a problem showing her desire to be in everyone’s business.

“Yeah, what’s his name, Gator?” Ty asked before slurping down the remnants of his margarita; the holiday margaritas Flor made every year were to die for, honestly.

Your face crinkled up at the thought of Gator, remembering the way he looked as you saw him across the street, one last time before leaving North Dakota for good. How you had no issue making it crystal clear you hated every fiber of his being.

And yet, your heart fluttered at the mention of his name. You’d be a horrible fucking liar to try denying how much you missed him still.

“Jinx, c’mon, let it rest already,” Bea warned, tilting her glass in hand towards Jinx as she pointed her finger at the younger woman.

“No, it’s okay… I- I hope I don’t have to run into him,” You paused, thoughts trailing off. Even all this time later he’s easily able to stop your train of thought by his mere existence.

You wish you didn’t miss him.

“But aren’t you making that gift for him?” Flor piped up, curiosity getting the best of her. Ty nodded, also intrigued.

“What— that’s just… I didn’t start it, I just figured maybe it’d be a good idea as a peace offering, or some shit.” You did your best to come off disgusted, but your friends knew better. They could read you like a book by now. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, y’all. It’ll be nice to keep busy on the flight too.”

“Nah… you’re totally hoping you run into him.” Ty smugly stated.

“Maybe you guys can mend the friendship,” Miles shrugged, hopeful things would work out for the best in your favor. “You’ve got all those memories with him that you constantly bring up, and you had your perfectly valid reasons to cut him off, but maybe it’d bring some closure, y’know?”

You laughed mirthlessly, looking down at the table. “Not sure I need closure from whoever the hell he turned into.”

Ivy gave your arm a supportive squeeze, “He could still be the person you knew underneath it all. Don’t make yourself uncomfortable, but if the opportunity arises, it might be worth trying to bury the hatchet at the very least.”

You nodded, appreciating everyone’s support, but especially Ivy’s. She always knew exactly what to say when you needed to hear it most.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Several days without proper sleep had finally caught up to you, and before you know it, you’re dozing off in the window seat, snuggled up with Lovebug as the winter rain lulls you to sleep. All of that exhaustion drags you into a deep slumber, one that’s deep enough to miss your phone going off in the middle of the night.

“…. Darlin’? I- I gotta keep this quick, but I’m… fuck it, I ain’t okay. I fucked up. I’m sorry for scarin’ you, and I’m sorry I never replied. My phone’s a goner, anyway. So if you see this weird number… I’m at a pay phone— can ya’ believe those still exist? I’m in the middle of fuck-all-nowhere, and this one truck stop has a— fuck. Shit. I gotta go, my ride’s here. I’ll explain everythin’ when I see ya’. I’m comin’ home, if ya’ don’t hate my guts again. If ya’ did, wouldn’t blame y— fuck, m’sorry, gotta leave. I love you.”

By morning, you’re woken up by Lovebug’s usual morning greeting of purring and affectionate headbutts, while a stiffness in your neck radiates from sleeping uncomfortably. The rain’s still heavy, pelting into what’s left of the snow, coating the city in that nasty, winter slush. A sharp pain runs down your neck as you try to sit up while you curse yourself for not falling asleep in your bed.

Searching your surroundings for your phone, you find it on the floor next to the window. Must’ve fallen outta my hands last night. You reach for it cautiously, not wanting to irritate the pain in your neck further. The screen illuminates, reading the time as 8:43 in the morning, with a battery of 23%. Scrolling through your notifications, you discover a missed call and voicemail from a strange number.

Both hope and dread fill you as you hit play on the voicemail. Gator’s voice comes through the speaker, and you want to cry in relief, but you’re too stunned as you listen to him ramble. He’s all over the place, he doesn’t mention where he is, just that he’s using a pay phone — they still have those? — there’s no way to call him back, and he’s in a hurry.

“Fuck it, I ain’t okay.”

You’d do anything to find out where he was, even just a shred of information would give you some relief and put your mind at ease. He sounded so shaken up and defeated. Bile rises in the back of your throat, running through the god-awful scenarios he could have been forced through.

“I’m comin’ home, if ya’ don’t hate my guts again.”

It kills you that he’s still beating himself up over the past, still worried he fucked up so badly, that you’d never fully forgive him. It still stings, what Gator did, but you’re moving forward, and you wish you could find a way to show him it’s okay if he forgives himself, too.

Hearing his voice for the first time in over a week is something you’d take solace in, but it’s heart wrenching to hear Gator feel so broken. You don’t have a clue what his dad forced him through, the kind of horrors he was made to witness— you know nothing at all, but you do know how strong Gator is, and hearing him that scared was rare.

Racing off the couch to the nearest phone charger, you turn the ringer’s volume up all the way before plugging it in. Maybe you’d be lucky enough to get another call from some random payphone on Gator’s way home.

Subconsciously, your fingers tug at the friendship bracelet he gave you before you flew back home, remembering what he teasingly told you after tying it on your wrist.

“Keep that one safe, yeah? I’m gonna want it back when I come home, so y’can’t steal it.”

Tugging your hoodie sleeve over your wrist, you ball up the fabric up between your fingers from the inside, as if it could shield the bracelet from anticipated damage.

If only it were that simple to shield Gator from any further damage and suffering, too.

#gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman x you #gator tillman fic #tramps like us #part time soulmate full time problem #my fics

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capturethechaos · 4 months

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Masterlist

Previous chapter

Sam Kiszka x Reader

Words - 8k

Warnings - Swearing, drinking, use of marijuana, I think that's it, let me know if I missed anything!

♫ Skeptical Playlist ♫

a/n - Oops, I disappeared again. I have been struggling so bad with having any motivation to write, but here we are... Hope you enjoy this chapter, just writing it gave me butterflies ♡ (disclaimer, I am making this a scheduled post, so the rest of the taglist will be posted when I eventually wake up ♡)

There’s something truly liminal about a grocery store when it is, for the most part, unoccupied.

You stood alone, listening to the quiet music playing over the speakers as you deliberated on which cereal you wanted.

“You know, personally I’d go with the Count Chocula, or Apple Jacks, but maybe that’s just me.”

The sudden voice next to you caused your body to tense up, and you whipped around, coming face to face with Sam as he stood with his usual goofy ass grin plastered on his face.

Your eyes rolled, but a smile quickly formed on your lips. “You know, a hello would have sufficed, rather than scaring the shit out of me.”

He shrugged, and reached past you to grab a box of the aforementioned Count Chocula cereal. “Maybe, but where’s the fun in that?”

It had been a couple weeks since you last saw him, since the night at the pub… and since you woke up the morning after having dreamed about him all night, about how his lips felt against your own, how gentle he was as he held you close to him… It was a lot to grapple with, and it left you in desperate need of a cold shower and a strong cup of coffee.

But there he stood, leaning against the handle of your cart as he watched you pick out cereal.

“You know, it’s funny I ran into you actually.”

You turned to him as you reached for a box of Apple Jacks, a curious look on your face urging him to continue speaking.

“I was gonna text you to see if you were free tonight. I’m having some friends over for a game night, gonna get some pizza, have some drinks, if you’d like to come.”

Your eyes caught something, well someone walking past the end of the aisle, and your focus drifted from Sam. He quickly noticed the change in focus, and turned to see what you were looking at.

“You alright, Y/n? Is that the uh… the dreaded ex?”

You slowly nodded, continuing to watch as he walked around with his new girlfriend on his arm.

“What’s his name?”

“Adam”

“Well, Adam is a loser, and what he did to you is fucking awful.”

You turned to him, confused as to how he knew about what happened between you and your ex, but he was still looking down the aisle at Adam. “How do you know what happened?”

He turned back to you, shaking off the sour look he had been directing at your ex before speaking. “Eleanor gets chatty after a few drinks.”

You nodded in agreement, but stayed quiet, peeking over his shoulder again to see Adam looking back at you, and you froze.

“Hey.” The feeling of Sam’s hand on your arm calmed your nerves, and his voice brought your attention back to him. “I mean what I said, he’s a fucking loser, and you’re way out of his league. Pay him no mind, he doesn’t deserve your attention.”

You nodded, and looked down at your shoes for a moment before you felt the gentle pressure of Sam’s finger beneath your chin, lifting your face to look at him. “Can you repeat that back to me? He’s a loser…”

“He’s a loser.”

“You’re out of his league.”

You stared blankly at him for a moment, and he sighed. “Come on, say it for me.”

“I’m out of his league.”

“Yes you are, and he doesn’t deserve your attention.”

“He doesn’t deserve my attention.”

“Atta girl.” You watched a smirk form on his lips as his finger dropped from your chin. “Now, would you like to continue shopping together? I could use a second opinion on what snacks to get for tonight.”

The simple nod you gave him was enough for the smirk to turn into a wide grin, and you turned back to lean against the handle of your cart. “So, what kind of games should I be preparing to play tonight?”

“So you are gonna come?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.”

The two of you made your way to the end of the aisle, and you turned to Sam. “Where to next?”

“Deli, need to pick out some meat and cheese.”

Your gaze dropped to the small basket he was carrying before lifting back up to look at him. “There’s no way you’re going to fit everything you need in that basket.”

He looked down at his basket, then at your cart before looking at you. “Would you mind if I put my stuff in your cart?”

You shook your head, and gestured for him to add his stuff into the cart. “Of course not, go ahead.”

You stayed stationary while Sam placed the basket of his groceries into the cart, and waited for him to take the lead, but he simply made his way back to the space beside you. You turned to look at him, and were met with movement as he tucked himself closer behind you and placed a hand over each of your own on the handle of the cart before slowly pushing it, and in turn, you forward. “Lead the way, gorgeous. I’m perfectly content following you around.”

There was an undeniable feeling in you that your brain short circuited the moment he touched you, but his words brought a blush to your cheeks that would make a rose jealous. He stuck to you for the first few steps before he let his hands slip from yours and he fell into step with you.

You could imagine the smug look on his face without having to look at him, but what you didn’t see was the way Adam watched you turn into a flustered mess at Sam’s proximity and words, or the way Sam made a show of holding back to watch you walk away for a few seconds before making a move to catch up with you.

The two of you made your way around the store, slowly filling the cart with whatever you chose before you finally ended up in the produce section. You watched as Sam sped ahead of you a little, making a b-line for the assortment of melons on display. He pondered over the pile for a moment before he picked up two cantaloupes and turned to you. “Which one looks better?”

Your eyes dropped to the melons in his hands, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the way he had them held against his chest. He seemed to catch the small laugh as it escaped you, and his eyes dropped to look at what you were seeing. An airy chuckle came from Sam as he looked back up at you. “My eyes are up here you know.”

You rolled your eyes and stepped away from your cart to take one of the cantaloupes from his hand and place it in the cart. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Sam.”

“I could say the same to you, dear.”

When you turned to look back at him, somewhat taken aback by what he had called you, he had already walked away, looking instead at the array of different peppers.

You were only in the store for another ten minutes before you and Sam walked out into the parking lot.

“Where are you parked?”

You turned to look at him quickly before swiveling to find your car and point at it. He hummed and stepped away from you and the cart. “Why don’t you head over to your car, I can see an empty spot next to you. I’ll grab my car and make my way over.”

You gave him a quick nod and began to walk over to your car, trying your best not to get hit by the idiots who don’t know how to drive in a parking lot. Your head was hung as you searched through your bag for your car keys, leaving you unsuspecting of someone walking up to you.

“What happened to your little boyfriend? Did he get sick of you already?”

You knew exactly who the voice belonged to as it invaded your ears, but you kept your gaze focused on your task as you pulled your keys from your bag and popped the trunk of your car.

“If that was some attempt to make me jealous, that’s kind of-”

Before you had the chance to turn around and snap at him, the sound of a car horn cut him off, and you turned instead to see Sam’s car idling as he waited to get into the empty parking spot that Adam was standing in.

You watched as the window rolled down and Sam turned to look at Adam. “Hey asshole, the brakes in this car are on the fritz, so I can’t promise that it won’t run you over if you don’t leave her alone and move the fuck out of the way.”

Adam scrambled out of the way, looking over at you one last time, seeing the shocked look on your face, and the fresh blush creeping up onto your cheeks as you looked at Sam, before walking back to his car. Sam pulled into the spot and got out of the driver's side before making his way back to you, popping his truck as he walked.

“Are your brakes actually broken, Sam?”

He turned to you and chuckled, shaking his head as he gave the car a soft pat. “God no, I just bought this car, if the brakes were broken I would cry.”

“So you just-”

“Lied to get your jackass ex to move, yeah. Why? Did you not want me to? I can call him back over” his voice was teasing as he slowly turned and lifted his hand.

You quickly closed the distance between you and Sam, grabbing his arm and lowering it back to his side. “Please, god, no.”

He chuckled and lifted his free hand to your arm. “I would never, I’m just teasing.”

Your hands loosened from around his arm, falling back to your side as Sam turned to grab his groceries from the cart. “So… when should I make my way to your place?”

“Well.” He placed two bags into the trunk of his car before turning to you. “I know you’ve got lots to put away when you get home, so I won’t say right now, but whenever you’d like to make your way over the door will be open. Be warned though, I may put you to work helping me out with plating all this food if you come over too early.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, and stepped back to close the trunk of your own car. “Well, we’ll just have to see then won’t we?”

His lips turned into a small smirk as he watched you slowly back up toward the driver's side door of your car. “I guess so.”

You pulled open the car door and tossed your bag into the passenger's seat before turning back to him. “I’ll see you soon then.”

The smirk on his face grew to a smile, and he gave you a soft nod. “See you soon.”

The second you closed the car door you leaned over to your purse to grab your phone.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a few seconds, but before you could begin to type a knock on your window scared you back into paying attention to your surroundings. Sam was leaning toward your window before you could even roll it down, his knuckle still resting in the spot it had been even after the glass had lowered.

“Figured you might need these.” His hand opened, revealing your keys. “You know, for driving and getting back into your apartment.”

Slowly, you lifted your hand to pluck the ring of keys from his palm, retracting your hand back through the window before you chanced a glance at him. “Thanks, I must have dropped them while I was packing the trunk.”

“Guess you’re lucky I noticed them.” He straightened himself out and slowly began turning back to his car. “I’ll see you later, Y/n. Don’t miss me too much.”

There weren’t many times that you felt as frantic as you did walking into your apartment, grocery bags hung from each arm as you kicked the door shut and shuffled into the kitchen. If there were an olympic category for putting away groceries, you would have won gold, and only once you were sure that everything had been placed in the correct spots did you pick up your phone. You spend the short walk to the bathroom staring at your screen as you typed out a detailed account of what happened at the grocery store to send to your friends.

The realization dawned on you as you walked into the bathroom that you hadn’t put much effort into how you looked before going to the store. You looked in the mirror, noting the fact that your hair hadn’t been washed in a few days, which you had attempted to hide with a bit of dry shampoo and a claw clip, and the clothing you had plucked from your “chair pile” of clean clothes that you had yet to fold and put away.

A shower was exactly what you needed, and you spent ample time beneath the blistering heat of the water before you stepped out and back into your bedroom.

After spending almost an hour just laying on your bed scrolling through a variety of apps, and some much needed deliberation over FaceTime with your friends, you were finally dressed and ready to go. You were thankful for Nadine, who had informed you that she would be joining in on the fun as a fellow friend… and plus one to Danny.

You hadn’t realized just how badly you had been fidgeting in the back seat of the car until the sound of the driver's voice pulled you from your own thoughts.

“You alright back there? You seem nervous.”

A nervous chuckle bubbled out of you, and you looked down at your hands as you twiddled your thumbs. “That obvious, huh?”

“Just a tad.” The chuckle that came from the older man in the front seat was much lighter than yours, and when your gaze lifted, you were quickly met by his warm smile and kind eyes in the rear view mirror. “So what’s got you feeling so nervous, first date?”

You choked on your own spit at the thought, immediately even more flustered than you were before. “No… no nothing like that, just going to hang out with some friends.”

“Just hanging out with friends… hm. Am I correct in assuming that you have feelings for one of these friends of yours.”

“Yeah…”

“And do you know if this friend has feelings for you as well?”

“I… I don’t really know.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, the last time we hung out we shared an Uber to go back to our respective houses… and when we arrived at my place he got out to say goodnight, which isn’t unusual… but then we kissed.”

“Well that’s a great sign!”

You could still see the soft expression that crossed Sam’s features as he looked at you that night. You could feel the weight of his gaze as his eyes took in every little detail on your face, and the way his lips pressed against your own.

“Sure, except that immediately after he muttered goodnight and scurried back into the car.”

“Well that just sounds like the poor boy was just as nervous as you are now.” His eyes flickered back to the rear view mirror as he pulled up to the curb outside of what you assumed to be your destination, and when he saw the skeptical look on your face he made the effort to turn and look at you properly. “Let yourself relax, darling. The longer you get stuck in that head of yours, the worse it’s gonna be.”

You nodded and looked back down at your hands.

“I was the same as him at some point in the distant past. Just a nervous, idiotic young man that would forget how to function around a girl that I had feelings for. Let yourself relax, if it’s meant to happen, it will happen.”

You looked up at him, offering a small smile to match his, and he gave you a reassuring nod. “My late wife, the love of my life, used to tell me that fate always meant for the two of us to end up together, we just had to allow ourselves to believe that love would find us when we were ready.”

Something caught his attention, causing him to turn away from you and look out the window. “Is this the guy?”

You turned and followed his gaze, finding Sam as he walked curiously down the driveway of the house. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

Sam’s eyes squinted in an attempt to figure out who was on the backseat, and you watched a wide grin break out on his face when you lifted your hand to offer a small wave.

The moment he stopped at the side of the car, your door was opened, and Sam offered a hand to help you out. “I was beginning to think you had taken a wrong turn.”

You thanked the driver as you stepped out of the car, and watched as Sam dipped his head down to look into the car. “Thank you for getting her here safe.”

“Any time, kid. It was a pleasure, she was the best passenger I’ve had in a long while. You two have a good night.”

“That’s the plan.” Sam stood up straight once again, giving the driver a wave as he shut the car door. “Have a good one.”

“Well.” Sam turned to you, and the intoxicating smile on his face caused a flurry of butterflies to erupt within you. “Come on then, I’ve got to give you the grand tour.”

You followed closely behind him and as the two of two walked through the front door, you immediately felt some of the anxiety you had been carrying fall away. Sam continued to walk as you shrugged your coat from your shoulders and bent over to untie your shoes.

“Where’d you go?”

His voice had become distant, having passed through what you had suspected to be at least one hallway of sorts before he finally noticed that you weren’t following behind him. “Taking my shoes off.”

He came shuffling back into the entryway within seconds, standing and watching as you pulled your shoes off and straightened up. “Sorry, I got a little ahead of myself there.”

You chuckled and stepped closer to him, your lips curling into a smile that you couldn’t fight, not in his presence at least. “No need to apologize, now show me around.”

A giddy energy blanketed the two of you as Sam reached for your hand, wrapping it within his own before dragging you along behind him further into the house.

After painstakingly showing you every inch of the main floor, Sam ran ahead of you and beckoned you up the stairs. “Alright, so we’ve got another bathroom here.”

His hand brushed along a closed door, and continued along the wall. Your gaze travelled along the decorated hall, pictures of family and friends leaving little room in the space between door frames.

“And this��” The soft tapping of his fingers against the dark wooden door brought your attention back to him. “Is where the magic happens. Also known as my bedroom.”

A playful smirk crept its way onto your lips as you turned your attention to the way he continued staring down the hall. “Where the magic happens, huh?”

His head whipped around to look at you, and he quickly mirrored your smirk. “Do you doubt me?”

And just like that, any thoughts that may have crossed your mind were washed away into the gutter. You wanted to say no, you didn’t doubt him, in fact you wanted him to prove it, but instead the two of you simply stood staring at one another until he chuckled and broke the silence. “Do you want to see the music room?”

You shook from your trance and gave him a small nod. “You have a music room?”

He beamed and nodded, waving for you to follow him as he turned and walked to the end of the hallway. He opened the door and made a dramatic show of displaying the now open room to you as you walked up to the doorway. “Holy shit. I knew you liked to play guitar, but I wasn’t expecting this.”

It was beautiful, a comfortable couch resting against the wall beneath a cascading display of various guitars. Across the room was a standing desk with a keyboard resting beneath the main deskspace. You watched as he made his way toward the couch, letting himself freefall into the cushions before looking back at you. “Kind of comes with the job I do, I guess.”

“You know, we never really talk about your job.” You were still leaning against the door frame, your eyes taking in all the small details of the room.

“There’s more interesting things to talk about.”

You turned back to him, your eyes locking with his as a small smile pulled at the corner of your lips. “Well I’d like to know more about it than you just ‘working in a music store with your brothers.’ Seems like it would be fun.”

His smile returned, and one of his hands dropped from behind his head to pat the empty space beside him on the couch. “Well come on over then, I’ll tell you all about it.”

You shuffled across the room, lowering yourself into the seat across the couch from him and turning to give him your full attention. “Go on.”

He turned himself to face you, readjusting himself to get comfortable. “It’s nothing overly special. I work with my brothers, and Danny. The store is owned by an old family friend, but the four of us have been keeping the place going now that he is getting a bit too old to manage it on his own.”

You pulled your legs onto the cushion to sit cross legged as you listened to him talk, nodding along, but when he paused, you worried that’s all he was going to say. “Well that can’t be all of it. What do you do?”

He looked somewhat surprised by your genuine interest, but quickly picked up where he left off. “Well, Josh pretty much runs the place. Danny helps with customer service and most of the heavy lifting. Jake does maintenance, he’ll fix pretty much whatever instrument someone brings in, he’s kind of a whiz with that stuff. He also does guitar lessons.”

“And you?”

He smiled and watched you sink further into the cushions, getting comfortable as you listened to him. “I mostly do customer service, but I also give guitar and piano lessons.”

“It’s nothing special… Sam, that’s such a cool job, you’re teaching people to play music, that’s so special.”

He seemed taken aback by what you said, and you watched him stare down at his hands as a light blush blossomed across his cheeks. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

There was a moment of quiet before Sam looked back up at you. “Do you play any instruments?”

“Not really, no. I wanted to learn how to play guitar in high school, but I never really got the hang of it so I just gave up.”

The smile on his face fell to a small frown, and you watched the cogs turn in his brain for a moment before his eyes locked on yours once again. “Would you let me try.”

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion as you looked back at him. “Let you try?”

“To teach you.”

“You’d really do that?”

Sam became somewhat sheepish at the question, but held eye contact with you. “Only if you want to. I’m not going to force you to learn.”

“No, I uh… I’d like that.” His smile returned, bright and warm at your words, and this time he got to watch as a blush rose to your cheeks. “I’d like that a lot actually. Maybe this time it’ll stick.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable quiet for a few minutes until Sam groaned and stretched before standing from the couch. You watched as he made his way to your side of the couch, and he made a show of offering a hand to you with a dramatic bow. “Shall we make our way downstairs to get the food plated?”

You giggled, nodding as you placed your hand in his and felt him pull you from the cushions. The two of you made your way downstairs, and Sam took the time to show you where all of the food was before he ran into the living room to turn on some music.

“We can’t be working in silence, that’s insane.”

Within an hour the two of you managed to put together a table full of various snacks. Bowls full of different flavors of chips, and platters covered in various meats and cheeses laid before you, organized to perfection along the length of his dining room table.

A low whistle passed through Sam’s lips as you made the final adjustments to the display, and you turned to see him staring at all of the food. “You think there’s enough?”

You shrugged and straightened up, turning properly toward him. “Good question, I don’t know how many people are going to be here, so you’d know better than me.”

His eyes flickered up from the table, meeting your eyes as the music kept the room from falling into silence. Sam pulled his hand from the pocket of his jeans and lifted it towards you. “Come here.”

You looked at his hand, then back up to his face, a curious look crossing your features as your hand slowly lifted away from the table you had been leaning against. He caught the look and chuckled. “Come on, let’s dance.”

“But—”

His hand breached the gap, wrapping around your own. “Nope. No excuses.”

“Seriously, Sam?” You relaxed into the gentle pull of his hand, making a show of dramatically rolling your eyes. “Don’t you remember the wedding?”

“Very well, yeah.” When your eyes landed back on Sam, you felt a flash of something you hadn’t felt in a while, bliss. Something in the way he smiled at you released the tension in your body, you felt relaxed with him.

You stepped forward, planting yourself in front of Sam, keeping your eyes “So you remember what I said?”

Your gaze fell to the hand enclosed within Sam’s, watching the way he readjusted his hold to be more comfortable for the both of you as he spoke. “I remember you enjoying yourself until what’s his name interrupted us.”

“Oh, I was enjoying myself was I?” Your words were accompanied by a small smirk and a quirk of your brow as your eyes once again found his.

“Sure seemed that way” Sam gently pulled you closer, and you could feel the tingle of his touch as his free hand ghosted over your waist, as if giving you an out of you genuinely didn’t want to dance. “Of course you’re free to tell me otherwise.”

You hummed as your free hand came to rest on his bicep. “As fun as it is to bicker with you, I agree. I did enjoy myself, quite a lot, actually.”

Sam’s smile widened, and his lips parted, but before he could speak the sound of the door opening and closing stole the attention of the both of you.

“Honey, I’m home.”

You and Sam separated when the sound of Danny’s voice echoed through the house, instead you watched as Sam popped his head into the living room. Sam was the first to speak as he took a large step out of the dining room. “You’re back early.”

“No… not really. It's actually later than I planned to get home.”

There was a beat of silence before Danny spoke up. “It’s quiet in here, where’s Rose?”

“Shit. I put her in her crate earlier and meant to let her outside before everyone showed up.”

“And have you?”

“Clearly not, I’ve been a bit distracted.”

“Distracted, what could have distracted you from your dog?”

Nadine popped out from around the corner, and as quickly as she found you, she was back out of the dining room with you in tow. “I think I know.”

Danny turned at the sound of her voice, and a smile quickly formed on his face when he caught sight of the two of you. “Well hello, stranger. Where were you hiding?”

“She wasn’t hiding, she’s been here for a while.”

Everyone turned to see Sam standing at the base of the staircase, and in his arms was the cutest puppy you had ever laid eyes on. “She was passed out when I walked into my room.”

Your gaze lifted and locked with Sam’s, earning a small smile and wave from him, beckoning you towards him. Rose was eagerly wiggling in Sam’s grasp when you walked over to them, her little tail thumping against his side. “Well hello, Rose. You are so cute.”

Rose gave your hand a brief sniff before lowering her head as if to ask for you to pet her, which you gladly did, running your fingers along the soft fur between her ears.

“I’m gonna take her out for a bit before everyone gets here. Might smoke a joint as well, care to join?” Sam’s voice pulled your attention from the puppy, though your hand remained scratching a spot beneath her chin as you looked up at him and nodded.

Sam’s head briefly lifted to look toward the others, but your attention remained on him and Rose as he spoke. “Danny, Nadine, you two coming along?”

You turned then to look at them, and found both shaking their heads. Nadine spoke up when her eyes locked with yours. “Gonna wait till later, don’t want to get tired super early.”

“Alright, well looks like it’s just gonna be you and me.” You turned back to Sam and found him already staring back at you with a small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Lead the way.”

The two of you got to the sliding glass door, and Sam opened it. He looked down, and your eyes followed, watching as he slipped on a pair of shoes and looked back up at you. “Hold on a second, I’ll be right back.”

He turned and sped off, leaving you watching and wondering what on earth he was doing, until he came back holding your shoes. “Figured you wouldn’t want to go outside in your socks.”

You looked back down at your feet, eyeing the mismatched socks you had pulled from your pile of clean laundry in a hurry before your gaze found him again. “Honestly, I hadn't even realized, thank you.”

He placed your shoes on the floor and straightened back up before sliding open the door and stepping outside with Rose in tow. You slid your shoes on as quickly as you could and stumbled behind him onto the patio as Rose barrelled ahead into the large backyard.

It took a few steps to catch up to Sam as he leaned against the railing. “This house is amazing, how did you two manage to find such a nice place?”

Sam turned to you, body still leaning against the wooden railing, with a joint between his lips and his hand lifting to light the end. He took a long drag, clearly enjoying the way you were simply watching him, before blowing the smoke from between his lips. “We got lucky.”

He took another drag before holding the joint out for you to take, and watched as you plucked it from between his fingers. “Elaborate.”

“The owners are friends of Danny’s grandparents. When they retired they bought an R.V. to travel, and offered to give us cheap rent if we helped fix the place up.” He watched you intently as you breathed in the wondrous substance within the perfectly rolled joint, and his attention only broke when Rose let out a hushed bark from across the yard.

Both of you turned, watching as she stared back at the two of you, lowering the front of her body onto the grass, but keeping her rear end, and wagging tail off of the ground.

“What is it Rose? Do you want to show Y/n the garden, is that it?”

She hopped from her spot, her small body swaying from the force of her tail wagging, and you turned to Sam. “You have a garden?”

He eagerly nodded, and accepted the joint as you offered it back to him. “I do.”

Sam passed the joint back to you on the walk over to the garden, and Rose happily trotted along behind the two of you. The two of you made your way over to an area off to the side of the patio and you were honestly a bit surprised at what you found. A long garden bed spanned the gap between fence posts, filled to the brim with flowers of every color, shape and size you could imagine. Across from it stood multiple raised garden beds, each with a different cluster of fruits and vegetables growing within them.

“So…” Sam turned to look at the sound of your voice, and watched as you took another drag of the joint before holding it out for him to take. “What do you have growing in this garden of yours?”

He plucked the joint from between your fingers and carefully tapped the side until the ash scattered to the ground. “You really want to know?”

His question was followed by a deep drag of the joint as he looked to you for an answer. What he found was a soft smile across your lips as you nodded encouragingly for him to tell you. “Yeah, I really do.”

“Well, uh…” You watched Sam look between all of the planters, eventually stopping at the one at the end of the row. “This one has beets and carrots in it.”

“That one.” He pointed to the next box, and you followed his movement. “Has a few kinds of lettuce, and green beans growing up the lattice.”

A quiet bark sounded from between the two of you, and you looked down to see Rose sitting next to you, wagging her tail as she looked back up at you.

“I think she wants a green bean, she loves them.”

You quirked an eyebrow, and kneeled to pet Rose. “You like green beans, Rose?”

She yipped, and pressed her head into your hand.

“Here.” You looked up and found Sam holding out a green bean for you to take. “Give her one, she’ll love you forever.”

You took the small green vegetable from his hand and looked back at the small puppy that was damn near vibrating with excitement at your feet. “Does she know any tricks?”

“I’ve been teaching her how to shake, but she’s still learning.”

“Rose, would you like a green bean?” Her tail was whipping back and forth as she continued to stare at you. “Can you shake a paw for me?”

You offered your free hand to her, and watched as she stared blankly at you for a moment before she lifted a paw and placed it in your palm.

You lit up, and gently shook her paw before letting it slip from your grasp, instead you held the green bean out for her and watched as she gently took it between her teeth, bolted up onto the patio and jumped up onto one of the chairs to lay down as she ate her treat.

“That was impressive.” You straightened up and looked back at Sam, who was beaming as he continued to look at Rose. “She doesn’t usually listen that well to new people.”

“I guess she just really likes me.” It was a cheeky comment, paired with a goofy grin as you continued to look at him.

“She’s not the only one.”

He still wasn’t looking at you, and for a moment you wondered if you had misheard him, but before you could respond another voice echoed into the backyard. “Now what on earth is going on out here?”

You turned to follow the sound of the voice and found the twins leaning against the railing. Josh’s eyes found yours, and seeing his bright smile, you couldn’t help but smile yourself. “Sam was just showing me his garden.”

“You don’t say. You know, usually Sam waits until the third date to show a girl his cucumber.”

Jake’s comment was followed closely by a booming laugh from Josh, and a scoff from Sam. After a few seconds of tense silence, Rose broke through the quiet by barking and scratching at the sliding glass door.

“Well, didn’t mean to interrupt your tour, just wanted to let you two know that we had arrived.” Josh’s words were quickly followed by him dragging Jake back into the house, leaving you and Sam alone in the garden once again.

“We should probably head inside if people are starting to show up.”

“What, you’re not going to tell me about each and every one of the flowers you have in this garden bed?”

He chuckled, and shook his head and he began walking back towards the patio. “There’s too many to list, plus it’s not that interesting.”

“I beg to differ.” You followed closely behind him, falling into step as you made your way toward the door.

You were startled when he suddenly came to a stop, which caused you to bump into him as he turned to you. “Maybe next time.”

His gaze dropped to watch as you lifted your hand into the small gap between the two of you, with all of your fingers tucked away, except for your pinkie. “Promise?”

He chuckled and lifted his own hand, looking back into your eyes as he wrapped his pinky around your own. “Promise.”

You followed Sam into the house and quickly found both the twins settled into the living room with Danny and Nadine.

“So, has Sam told you that he makes pickles?”

You made your way over to one of the remaining empty spaces on the loveseat being occupied by Danny and Nadine. “He did not, but I am eager to hear about it whenever he chooses to share.”

The remaining guests slowly trickled into the house, and suddenly the space was filled with boisterous laughter and conversation. Everyone dug into the food as they talked, and you found yourself comfortably conversing with Sam’s friends, listening as he made jokes with them, and joining in as they asked questions to get to know you.

“Who’s up for some drunk uno?”

You leaned over to Sam, who had made himself comfortable leaning against the table next to you, close enough to warm his body with the heat radiating off of you. “What is drunk uno?”

Sam let out a quiet chuckle before turning to Jake, who had brought up the idea. “I’ll go grab the cards, you guys will have to explain the rules to Y/n and Nadine, I don’t know if they’ve ever played, and it never hurts to refresh everyone on how to play.”

Sam scurried off to find the game as the rest of you made you way into the living room and settled into spots around the coffee table as Jake explained the rules, they were as follows;

If you forget the rules, or you must ask a question, you take one drink.

If you lose a turn because of a skip card, or miss a turn, you take one drink.

+2 cards = two drinks

+4 cards = four drinks

If you don’t have a matching card and have to pick up from the deck, you take one drink.

If you forget to say Uno on your last card, take four drinks.

If you play an identical card (same color and action/number), everyone takes one drink.

The player with the most cards at the end of the game must finish their drink. In the event that their drink is less than half full, they must get a fresh drink to finish.

Sam returned with the game in his hand, and he quickly maneuvered his way around his seated friends to lower himself into the empty spot beside you.

You listened to the small conversations that had sparked up in the time since you all sat down, but your attention had been stolen by Sam the moment he sat beside you. You watched as he sat quietly, pulling the cards from their box and checking to make sure that they were all facing the same way before he began to shuffle them.

It wasn’t hard to become transfixed, watching the way his nimble fingers handled each card with such care, you had tuned out your surroundings, and figured that the weed was finally settling in your brain, bringing with it a serene sense of calm.

“So, did Jake confuse you enough with the rules?” Your eyes flickered up to see Sam still concentrated on the cards as he dealt the hands for each player.

“Might take me a round to get used to, but I’m a quick learner so I’m sure I’ll be able to figure it out.”

His eyes left the cards, and he caught the way your gaze lingered on his lips as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip. A smirk quickly formed as he leaned towards you to nudge his shoulder against your own. “Well if you have any questions, ask me, I won’t make you drink.”

—

“Dickhead!”

Sam’s boisterous laugh filled the room as he dramatically tossed his final card onto the pile. “Sorry baby, it was all I could play.”

Your cheeks flushed pink at his words, and he watched you pick up four cards from the deck, and when you lifted your drink to your lips, he kept eye contact with your icy gaze, watching intently as you took four sips of your drink.

Thankfully, even with the addition of the cards at the last second, you still weren’t holding as many as Josh, who made a show of standing for everyone to watch as he downed his drink.

The group was in the fourth round… or was it the fifth? Of uno, and you were finally on your last card. At least you were until Sam played that damned plus four. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, as breaks had been taken between each round to eat, go pee, or smoke.

“Alright, someone has to open the store tomorrow, so I’m going to head out.”

Josh’s statement was followed by a chorus of boos from those still sitting on the floor, but once it had quieted down, Jake piped up with a loud groan as he stood and stretched. “Josh is right, gotta have a couple people capable of working tomorrow morning, so you two-” He turned to Danny and Sam, waggling his finger at them briefly “-are off the hook, but you’ll have to be in to close tomorrow.”

Slowly people began making their way around the house, cleaning up and collecting their belongings before bidding farewell and heading out. Danny and Nadine said goodnight as they made their way towards Danny’s room, and soon enough you were left in a quiet house with Sam.

One of his friends had passed out on the couch, so the two of you kept your voices low as you followed close behind him, helping to clean up what remained of the food.

You took the liberty of filling the sink with warm soapy water to do the dishes while Sam packed up whatever food had to be refrigerated, music playing quietly from his phone on the counter.

“You know.” The ghost of his touch on your waist jolted you from your own thoughts. “You don’t have to do the dishes, it was more than enough that you hung around to help me clean up the food.”

You reached for the drying towel beside the sink to wipe your hands as you slowly spun around to face him, and found yourself within inches of the man that had been invading your every sense since you came to realize the depth of your feelings for him.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you looked up into the warmth of his deep brown eyes. The majority of the lights in the house had either been dimmed, or turned off, so the two of you stood in the dim orange light of the kitchen, staring at one another and waiting to see who would break the silence.

“It’s the least I could do, really.”

He hummed, dropping one of his hands from your waist, but before you could mourn the loss of his touch, his fingers brushed your own. “Could I ask one more thing of you?”

You nodded, looking down to where the tips of his fingers danced with yours as you awaited his request.

“Dance with me?”

A smile graced your lips and you nodded once again, and you felt the pressure of his skin against yours as he took your hand in his own, and pulled you closer with the one that remained on your waist. The song changed, and the dulcet voice of Nat King Cole graced your ears as Sam began to sway with you.

You weren’t sure whether to credit the weed, alcohol, or Sam’s presence for the drowsiness that overcame you, though it was a safe bet that all of the above had a part to play in it.

You could feel the steady beating of his heart as your head rested against his chest. “Hey, Sam… can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.” His voice is hushed, much like your own, as if despite everyone else either having left or gone to sleep, you were making an effort for only one another to hear what was being said.

There was a beat of silence as your brain tried to comprehend what you were going to say. Eventually a soft sigh escaped from your lips, and you finally said it. “I think I’ve fallen for you.”

You could have sworn you felt his heart skip, and though you couldn’t see it, Sam’s smile was as dopey as ever as he took in what you said. “Is that so?”

You nodded as best as you could with your head still against his chest, and it once again fell quiet as you relaxed further into his hold.

Your eyes had fallen closed not long after you began to sway with him, so the feeling of his breath suddenly tickling the shell of your ear sent a shiver running down your spine. “I think I’ve fallen for you too.”

He was still wearing the goofy grin when you leaned back, looking up at him with dreamy eyes. “Really?”

He simply nodded, lifting the hand from your waist to move a stray hair from your face. Your eyes were growing heavier with each passing moment, and Sam clued in before you could try to fight it. “You tired?”

You nodded, and Sam’s smile softened. “Alright, let’s get you to bed. We can talk more when we’re both sober, but for now you need to rest.”

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sequinsmile-x · 23 days

Text

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Sixty Seven

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi besties <3

As always, the love for this version of them means the entire world. I miscounted earlier when I said the next chapter was 68, it is in fact 67 haha

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this and I hope it is worth the wait/what I've put them through the last couple of chapters. Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 2.2k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“I’m fine.”

Emily grunts as she tries to sit forward, she’s frozen in place, pain radiating outwards from her left shoulder forcing her backwards as the nurse standing next to her, a woman who had introduced herself as Julie, continues to clean the wound on her forehead.

“Emily,” Julie says, the calmness in her voice somehow making Emily’s headache worse, “You were in a car accident. You have an acute concussion and your shoulder is dislocated. We’re waiting for the doctor to come and reset it,” she leans in closer and looks at her forehead, “And it looks like you’ll need stitches. I’ll inject some local anaesthetic so it doesn’t hurt.”

She growls in frustration, batting Julie’s hands away from her, “I don’t have time for that. I need to go pick up my daughter.”

She woke up as she was being put in the ambulance, her vision blurry as she desperately tried to clear it by blinking, her unfocused gaze fixed on the wreck of her car. Her entire body hurt and she knew from experience that she would have bruised ribs, an all too familiar ache in her chest.

“Don’t worry about that, Bella.”

She turns her head to look at the doorway of the trauma room and her head pounds at the movement, the pain momentarily worse, her vision going blurry again until it refocuses on Dave.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, trying to sit up again before Julie stops her with a gentle hand on her good shoulder, “Where’s Lily?”

“We heard about the crash,” he says as he walks further into the room, “Garcia figured out it was you.”

“How?”

He chuckles as he sits on the seat next to her bed, “I think none of us should ask that question,” he says, his smile turning into a smirk, “Plausible deniability and all that. And don’t you worry about Mini Bella, JJ picked her up and she’s taken her back to hers. Right about now, Lily is probably making JJ and Will decide if they ever want another kid or not.”

She scoffs, “Lily is perfect,” she grumbles, wincing when Julie injects local anaesthetic into her forehead, “They’d be lucky to have a kid just like her.”

“Okay,” Julie says, smiling at her as she cuts over their conversation, “I’ll let that anaesthetic settle in for a couple of minutes and go get everything I need. Your father can stay here with you.”

Emily and Dave are both stunned into silence as Julie walks out of the room. The moment they are alone Emily looks at her friend and the shocked look on his face makes her burst into laughter, the sound immediately turning into a groan as the pain in her ribs and shoulders immediately gets worse.

“Fuck,” she grumbles, resting her head back against the bed, “Fuck that hurts.”

“That’s why you shouldn’t laugh at people,” Dave grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Sorry,” she replies, pressing her lips together, “Dad.”

“I am only 14 years older than you,” he complains, “Only 8 years older than your husband.”

The smile slips from her face at the mention of Aaron, dread filling her chest, her lungs expanding outwards with it and making the ache worse. He’d be so worried if he found out about this, if he knew she was hurt and he was on the other side of the world. He could barely handle it when he was next to her, as if it physically hurt him to see her in pain. She knew that felt, she was the same when the roles were reversed.

“Don’t tell Aaron,” she says, pressing her hand to her dislocated shoulder, the temporary immobiliser scratchy against her skin. Dave raises her eyebrows at her and she sighs, “You know he’ll panic. And he’s in Pakistan,” she says sadly, “I don’t want to worry him.”

She wanted him with her more than anything. Wanted him to play with her hair like he always did when she was sick or hurt, wanted to snuggle up against him, his embrace warm and safe. But she couldn’t have that, couldn’t have him so this was better.

She could tell him when he was home, and deal with any fallout of keeping this from him then.

“Emily-”

“Please, Dave,” she says, smiling sadly, “Promise me you won’t call him.”

He sighs and nods, “Okay. I won’t call him.”

She groans, her head pounding as she rests it back on the pillow. She closes her eyes and blows out a frustrated breath when it doesn’t make any difference in the persistent headache.

“Last time I was in a car accident I found out I was pregnant with Lily,” she says idly, smiling softly as she thinks about her little girl. Dave chuckles and it makes her open her eyes, the way she frowns at him pulls at the cut on her forehead and she raises her good hand to press her fingers into the temporary dressing over the wound, “Why are you laughing at me? I’m injured.”

“Sorry Bella,” he says, clearing his throat in a desperate attempt to hide his amusement, “it’s just I think you’re the only person I know who can say the phrase ‘last time I was in a car accident’ and be completely serious.”

Her response is cut off as Julie walks back in with a doctor, “This is Doctor Mundy,” she says, “He’s going to reset your shoulder and I’ll stitch your forehead, and then we’ll get you set up in an inpatient room.”

She frowns and starts to shake her head, “No, I can’t stay here overnight. I’ve got to get my baby.”

“Emily - you were unconscious for around 30 minutes,” Doctor Mundy says, his kindness and politeness never wavering, “We know your husband is away, so if there is no one at home who can keep an eye on you other than an infant I’m going to have to keep you in at least overnight.”

She sighs and turns to look at Dave, “Can you call JJ? See if Lily is okay?”

He nods and stands up, “I’ll be right outside.”

“Thanks,” she says, smirking at him, “Dad.”

He raises his eyebrows at her as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, and it pings indicating he has a test, “You’re on wafer thin ice.”

He turns and heads out into the hallway and reads the text message he received and he smiles

Hotch just called, he’s on a plane home.

He sighs and shakes his head, “She is going to kill me.”

___

It’s late when he gets to the hospital.

It helped that his body clock was 9 hours ahead of DC time, that his brain thought it was 10 am. He hadn’t slept on the plane, too anxious despite JJ’s assurances that Emily was fine, and he knew he wouldn’t feel any better until he saw her.

He’d stopped by at JJ’s on the way to the hospital to see Lily. He’d sat in JJ and Will’s spare room and stared at his daughter, asleep and content in the carrycot they’d set up for her. She looked bigger, impossibly grown up considering she was still a few weeks shy of turning 11 months old.

He somehow tore himself away, telling himself that Lily was safe and content and that he’d see her in the morning.

He needed to see his wife.

It’s easy enough to find her and get into her room despite the time of night, and he’s almost entirely sure that’s got everything to do with whatever Dave had told the nurses before he’d left.

He pauses in the doorway when he sees her. Her left shoulder was in an immobiliser and arm was her arm strapped over her chest. The white bandage on her forehead was clearly covering some kind of cut, but it didn’t cover the bruise that was poking out from underneath it, spreading from her forehead down her cheek.

Her hair was slightly longer, the haircut she'd got after having Lily out of necessity that she’d never liked growing out. Her bangs were almost entirely gone, and he found himself wondering if that was a choice, or if it had just happened. If it was a side effect of raising their daughter alone when he was gone, time to do things like getting a haircut a luxury she didn’t have.

He walks into the room and sits next to her bed, but he hesitates reaching for her hand, not wanting to disturb her, all too aware of how light a sleeper she is. In the end, it doesn’t matter, she wakes up anyway when his chair scrapes against the floor as he sits down.

“Dave,” she grumbles, her eyes not open yet as she turns her head towards him, “I told you to go home. I’m….” she trails off as she opens her eyes, her breath catching in her chest as her eyes meet Aaron’s. He looked like he’d lost some weight, the clothes she’d bought him a little loose on his frame. He had a beard and a tan, and in any other circumstance, when her head wasn’t pounding and the painkillers the doctor had talked her into weren’t making her nauseous, she’s sure she’d want nothing more than to jump him, “You’re not Dave.”

He chuckles and leans forward, wrapping his hand around her good one and kissing her cheek, “No, I’m not.”

“What are you doing here?” She asks, not quite believing that she was looking at him, sure she was dreaming until she feels his skin against hers.

He was never as warm in her dreams as he was in real life.

“Well,” he says softly, purposely keeping his voice quiet, well aware that her head must be pounding, “When you get a call saying your wife is in hospital you do everything you can to make it to her side. Even if you’re in another country.”

She groans, “I’m going to kill Dave.”

“Not Dave, sweetheart,” he says, standing up and encouraging her to sit up a little so he can climb into the bed with her. He’s careful so he doesn’t jolt her shoulder, his hand keeping it still so he can slip in behind her, “JJ called.”

She grumbles as she settles against him, “If Dave thinks he’s getting out of this on a technicality he’s mistaken,” she turns her head to press her face against his neck and she breathes him in, a sense of peace she hadn’t felt since she’d last seen him washing over her, “You didn’t have to come.”

He frowns and curls his finger under her chin and encourages her to look at him, “Of course I did,” he says, stamping a kiss against her lips, “And when you’re feeling better we’ll be talking about the fact you were planning on not telling me about this.”

She groans and kisses him, “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“I’m your husband, Em,” he says, holding her a little tighter, “We both know if this was the other way around you’d be yelling at me,” he says and she avoids eye contact, her lips pressed together. He sighs and decides to let it go for now, “I stopped by JJ’s to see Lily on the way here.”

She smiles at the mention of their daughter, “Yeah? Was she okay?”

He nods, “She was sleeping. She’s grown so much.”

She hums and reaches for his hand with her uninjured one and links their fingers together, “It has been two months,” she smiles sadly, “She can sit up without support now,” she says as she looks at him, “And she can stand. Kind of,” she chuckles, “She does it for a few seconds and then falls over.”

“Kind of like her Mommy after one too many margaritas,” he laughs, but it catches in his chest, the reality of what he’d missed settling in his lungs, the seeds of regret that had been planted the moment he’d Emily and Lily them behind starting to flower, “Anything else?”

She thinks of Lily’s sweet voice, how the only word she’d truly mastered so far was Dada and, on occasion, ‘Gio’ when she pointed at Sergio. Emily smiles sadly at her husband, can see how he’s struggling already. They had a lot to talk about, so many things to go over, and right now she could spare him more pain.

“No, nothing else,” she says, pressing her face back into his neck, “God my head hurts.”

“You should get some sleep, sweetheart,” he says, lifting his hand and cupping the back of her head, scratching lightly at her scalp before he starts to run his fingers through her hair.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” She asks, and he swears he feels his heart break. He nods and turns his head to kiss her forehead.

“I’ll be here,” he says, continuing to run his fingers through her hair, knowing it lulled her to sleep, “I promise.”

She hums and settles into him, “I missed you, honey.”

He rests his cheek on the top of her head, tightening his grip on her, holding her close in the way he’d been missing for weeks, “I missed you too.”

-x-

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lildrabbles · 7 months

Text

Chapter 7: Family Meeting

2007! Raphael x Female! Reader

Summary: Despite Raph's protests, hes made to bring you back to the lair to meet his family.

A/N: HELLO EVERYONE IM SO SORRY I HAVNT BEEN UPDATING, since school started i just kinda lost motivation to write BUT IVE CAME BACK. I cant say for sure how long youll have to wait in the future, cuz i have a problem with writers block. Also, this is a lot longer than most of my chapters, so enjoy!! But let me know if you like the longer chapters or shorter ones <3

Raph didn't want his brothers to meet her. They would embarrass the hell outta him! 'What do I care...' he told himself, but deep down inside he couldn't stop the dread. He stared at the stove while he ate his Corn Pops aggressively.

"Dude, what did those Corn Pops do to you?" Mikey said, laughing as he poked raphs side.

Raph quickly grabbed his finger and twisted it, causing Mikey to yelp and beg for mercy. Raph scoffed and let go, going back to eating his Corn Pops. When he was finished he stood up, making his way over to the sink to wash his bowl and spoon.

"So are you going to call her?" Donnie asked as he grabbed a poptart from the cabinet.

"I'm gonna text her to meet me." Raph said, not looking at him as he dried the bowl.

Donnie chuckled. "If only Leo were here to meet your girlfriend."

Raph was about to threaten him, but the mention of his eldest brother stopped him. He glared down at the spoon he held, not saying anything.

"Uh... sorry about bringing that up." Donnie cringed in on himself.

Raph scoffed. "Dont be. It's not like he's comin back anytime soon." He said dryly.

Donnie sighed. After a couple moments, Mikey piped up. "Dude, suddenly it got like, really tense in here."

Raph rolled his eyes as he turned around and leaned against the counter. "Blame Donnie."

"I apologised!" Don protested.

Raph sighed before placing the bowl back up in the cabinet. “I’m goin to the dojo to work out.” Before turning around and walking away, not waiting for any reply.

He was finishing beating the crap out of his punching bag before he felt light headed. He exhaled and collapsed onto the bench, grimacing at the sharp pain in his wound. When Donnie mentioned Leo it got his blood to boil. God, even thinking about him made him pissed. Who was Leo to think he could just leave his family, his own flesh and blood, just because he “didn’t feel good enough”?

Didn’t he fcking know that he was the best fighter out of them all?! He was truly selfish. And before he left, Raph may have started an argument, which yes he shouldn't have done, but then Leo started going on about how Raph was selfish and that only his own opinion mattered! Can you believe the audacity of that turtle?!

He grunted as he took a swig from his water bottle, grabbing the cloth beside him to wipe all of the sweat off his forehead. Raph glanced down at his phone, looking at the time. It was currently 4 pm. He wanted to wait a bit longer until it got dark to meet up with her, but decided to text her sooner so she had some notice.

He texted her to meet him in an alleyway where he knew wasn't far from her apartment and had a sewer entrance so they could easily get in and out without getting noticed. He also made sure to mention to come alone.

When she didn't respond right away, Raph decided to do some sit ups. After a couple of those, he heard his phone vibrate on the bench. He sat up and grabbed it, and read Y/N's message.

Y/N: ok what time? My shifts already over so I'm not worried

He chuckled at how she didn't even question it. Silly girl.

Raph: How about in half an hour?

Y/N: Sounds good to me! See you then

Raph sighs, then stands up, stretching and drinking the last of his water. Time to go make sure she gets there safely.

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

You didn't have to wait that long in the alleyway for him. You stood and looked around, double checking this was the right alleyway. Yep, it was.

Since it was a bit chilly, every time you let out a breath a little cloud formed.

Before you could even call out, you heard a soft thump behind you. You jumped slightly, spinning around. A small smile erupted on your face as you saw Raph emerge from the shadows.

"Hey, Raph." You look back towards the sidewalk to make sure no one would see you both.

"Hey." He smiled. "Okay, so uh… you probably wanna know why I brought you here right?"

"Right." You agreed.

"My family wants to meet you. Sensei mostly wants to meet you because he wants to know if he can trust you with our secret."

"O-oh!" Your eyes widen slightly. "So I get to meet your family?"

"Yeah. But…"

You frowned slightly. "What is it?"

You then gasped when Raph leaned towards you and in a flash, your vision was dark. You felt him tying a piece of fabric around your eyes.

"Raph, don't you think you're taking this too fast? I'm not into this kinda thing." Despite the shock of him doing this, you couldn't help making a cheeky joke while you giggled.

Even though you couldn't see him, his eyes widened as a blush erupted from his face. He frowned. "I-its not fcking like that!!" You could hear in his that he was flustered, causing you to giggle more.

You felt strong arms pick you up, but you weren't that alarmed because you recognised they were Raph's. You heard him grumbling to himself.

You clinged onto his neck despite his firm grip on you.

"I'm only doin this cuz we can't risk you knowin our location yet." Raph blushed and grimaced slightly as your arms wrapped around his neck.

"Oh… well I guess I can understand that."

You suddenly felt the wind rush around you both and you let out a little squeal, feeling a little nauseous. You heard Raph's feet thump on the ground softly, meaning he had jumped down somewhere.

The more he walked, a disgusting smell assaulted your nose. You scrunched up your nose. "Are we in the sewers?"

"Yeah." Raph laughed watching your reaction.

You nod slightly, nose still scrunched up. After a couple more moments of walking, you felt him stop and he placed you on your feet.

You heard some shuffling and then a crash, followed by an "oof!".

"Am I allowed to take this off now..?" You asked, directed towards Raphael.

He grunted in response which you took as a yes, so you slipped it off, only to be met with another turtle with an orange bandana in your face. You jumped a little, bumping backwards nto Raph.

"Mikey, what did I tell ya before I left?!" He scolded the orange banded turtle.

The turtle named Mikey threw his hands up. "Sorry bro! I just wanted to get a good look." He offered his hand to you. "I'm Mikey!"

You smiled sheepishly, shaking his hand. "I'm y/n."

Another turtle with a purple bandana appeared. He did the same thing as Mikey and offered his hand to you. "It's nice to meet you y/n, i'm Donatello but just call me Donnie or Don." He smiled.

You smiled back and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you as well."

You awkwardly stood there while you heard Raph huff behind you, crossing his arms beside you. Then, you saw a rat, just a bit shorter than the turtles. You assumed this is the Sensei Raph had talked about.

You bowed your head slightly to him. "And you must be Sensei Splinter." You smiled a little up at him. He smiled back and stood in front of you, taking your hand in his and held it for a moment.

"And you must be y/n. Thank you for helping my idiot son." He shot a quick glare towards Raph.

"Of course. I wouldn't call him an idiot though, after all he was just trying to protect--"

Raph suddenly cleared his voice loudly. "Okay, you met her, now what?"

"Dude we should all watch a movie together!!" Mikey exclaimed.

Before Raph could protest, everyone else agreed. But you were hesitant. "I would love to but I don't want to become a problem for you guys."

Raph stared down at you. "The hell do you-" he couldn't finish before getting smacked in the head by Splinter. He winced before re-phrasing. "What do you think you'll be a problem for?" He said gruffly.

You shrugged a little. "I-i don't know, I just don't want to invade your guys' personal life."

Donnie spoke up. "Don't worry about that, we would love to have you. We haven't had company like this in… well, we've never met new people really. Except for April and Casey, but we've known them forever"

You nodded, remembering Raph telling you about them. Then you smiled. "Ok, then. I'll stay."

Mikey cheered and ran towards the kitchen to gather snacks.

After a bit of setting up the movie (that apparently Donnie pirated) and setting up all the snacks, you settled down onto the couch beside Raph. You smiled up at him softly, making his heart clench. But he didn't show it, just smirking a little and huffing, taking a handful of popcorn from the bowl in your lap.

You chuckled, offering everyone popcorn before the movie began. Then Donnie turned on the movie, and you let out a deep exhale, sinking into the old, tattered couch.

After about halfway through the movie, while everyone else was asleep, Splinter left to go meditate in his room. So it was only you and Raph awake now.

"Your family seems really nice," you whispered to him.

He scoffed quietly. "Yeah but my brother's can get hella annoying."

You giggle a little and lean in closer. "I'm sure you'll seem annoying after a while of knowing you too."

Raph playfully glared down at you. "Oh yeah? Ditto. Except you're already gettin on my nerves." He joked.

You held your chest where your heart is dramatically. "Ouch. My heart."

You both laugh quietly. You looked down, then shuffled closer to him so your thighs were touching, and wrapped your arms around yourself, getting a little chilly.

He tensed a little, trying to even his breathing. He noticed your eyes starting to droop. "You know you can fall asleep, right?" He said softly. What has gotten into him lately?

"Are you sure?" You looked up towards him. He nodded, then grabbed a blanket from behind the couch, throwing it on you. You giggled a little and got snuggled up in the blanket. You then gently rested your head on his shoulder before whispering, "Is this okay..?"

"Y-yeah…" He whispered back. You smiled and got comfy against him, before closing your eyes to go to sleep.

After a couple moments, he relaxed. He let out a soft exhale. The way you cuddled into his side made his heart skip a beat. Shut the hell up, Raph. She's just cold. And you can't be goin soft for anyone!! He scolded himself. But despite his protests in his head, he let himself fall asleep, managing to fall into a slumber way easier than he's ever had.

#raphael x reader #2007 raph #tmnt #tmnt x reader #raph x reader #raphael #2007 raphael x reader #2007 tmnt

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daisynik7 · 7 months

Text

Cute as a Button

Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~3.2k

cw: switching POVs (2nd and 3rd person), explicit language, a confession, FLUFF

Summary: Mitsuya skips a session of sewing lessons, attempting to keep his distance after realizing his growing feelings for you. You’re left wondering where you stand with him, confused by his behavior the last time you saw him. Soon enough, you both realize that these feelings are too intense to ignore.

Author's Note: Thank you for your patience with this! I really love writing this story, so I’m doing my best trying to work on this while I continue my y2k karaoke party event. I know this doesn’t get that much traction, but I really do appreciate every single one of you who have read this so far. I’m excited to show you all how everything will play out! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! I would love to know what you think and maybe some predictions on what will happen in the future chapters. Thanks so much!

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It’s already past three in the morning and Mitsuya can’t sleep.

He reaches his hand up towards the ceiling, grabbing at nothing, staring at his fingers, the same ones that gripped Shimizu’s wrist a few hours ago, held on to her so delicately that he’s left to wonder how it would feel to touch her again. Would his body ignite the same way it did? A spark electrifying from the tips of fingers all the way into his chest, heart pumping in overdrive with exhilaration. Touching her reminded him of when he first rode his motorbike at thirteen, adrenaline coursing through his veins, excited to indulge in something new. It’s different though; this time, it’s even scarier.

He’s not sure what he wanted to say to her in that moment. Something overcame him that he can’t explain to himself. It was a rush of emotions that caused him to reach for her, to almost confess to her that maybe the odd feelings he’s been having lately are deeper than friendship. And it took that bastard Hanma to get him to finally realize it.

The asshole’s subtle threat made his blood boil. The sound of her name coming out of his mouth disgusted him enough to put an ache in his stomach. Draken had to console him when he became visibly upset, pacing the pavement, freaking out about what they should do now to keep her safe. His friend, as usual, managed to calm him until he was relaxed enough to drive back home. He said that everything would be fine, and that Hanma is full of shit. That there’s no way he would take any interest in Shimizu, and he’s only using her name to get a rise out of him. Draken’s explanation makes sense; he’s always the voice of reason.

So why is Mitsuya still so concerned? He’s never felt this way before, this sense of dread consuming him to a point of keeping him awake in the dead of night. It would be reckless for him to bring her into his world. Someone as sweet and pure as her shouldn’t be tainted with the filth involved in being in a gang. Then again, Draken has Emma and Takemitchy has Hina. Both couples are as happy as can be. Can he have this too? With Shimizu?

He continues to toss and turn, sheets twisted between his legs, hand still tingling from touching her velvet soft skin. He needs more time to think this through. For now, he’ll keep his distance until he’s certain about what he’s feeling.

During class, he stays in his corner of the classroom, keeping himself distracted as usual with his headphones on, nose buried in either his notebook or phone. Recently, after getting better acquainted, he’s been greeting Shimizu whenever he sees her. She usually takes her spot at the front of the class, besides her two friends. He manages to avoid her gaze throughout the week, making himself look busy as he secretly watches her from his peripheral. He’ll stare at the back of her head, not at all paying attention to the teacher’s lecture, instead focusing his attention on the way she tilts her head at a particularly intriguing bit of information. Or how she rests her elbow on the desk, leaning her face into her palm. Sometimes, she’ll whisper something to her buddies, giggling quietly at the funny comment she makes. And before he knows it, class is done, and the only thing he’s learned is how cute she is.

Friday afternoon, he arrives in the home economics room, pacing the floor for a bit before he finally sits down, his back facing the door. He takes one of his projects out, one of Luna’s torn t-shirts he has to mend, but doesn’t pay any attention to it, carefully listening for any sounds coming from the hallway. Eventually, he recognizes her familiar footsteps approaching, and his chest constricts, throat tightening up with nerves. He doesn’t turn around to look at her as she walks in, greeting him politely, as she usually does. “Hey Mitsuya.”

Without facing her, he mutters a rough, “Hey.” He clears his throat before continuing. “I’m canceling today’s lesson. Something came up.”

A beat of silence passes, then she asks, “Is everything okay?” The concern in her voice is endearing, as if she’s genuinely worried about him.

Resisting the urge to look at her, he says, “Yeah. I forgot that I have something else to do right now.”

“Do you still need a sitter for the girls?” He can hear her step towards him, so close that if he just turned around, maybe he can touch her again…

He clenches his fists at his sides, closing his eyes shut. “No. Just go home.” The last part comes out curtly, completely unlike him.

She doesn’t respond, waiting for any further explanation. When none comes, he hears her breath hitch, mumbling, “Okay. Have a good weekend, then.”

His listens to her footsteps disappear gradually in the distance, leaving him alone with a sinking feeling in his chest, longing for her presence.

~~~

“Why isn’t Ms. Hana coming today?” Luna asks, pulling her hair into a ponytail.

Mana chimes in. “Yeah, where is Ms. Hana?”

Mitsuya ignores his sisters as he packs their bags with a few of their favorite toys and their jackets, in case they get cold. They continue to pester him.

“Did the two of you get into a fight?”

“Is Ms. Hana angry with us?”

“What did you do Taka?!”

The accusation causes him to snap. He whips around, glaring at them. “Oi! Just put your shoes on, okay? We’re eating dinner with Uncle Ken tonight.”

The little monsters frown at him, crossing them arms over their chests, defiant.

He rolls his eyes, adding, “Auntie Em is going to be there too.”

At that, the girls relax, putting their shoes on without another word about Ms. Hana. One twenty-minute taxi ride later, the three of them stand outside Draken’s apartment complex, waiting to be buzzed in. As soon as they head up to his floor, they are welcomed happily by the couple, waving enthusiastically at the girls.

“Hello princesses!” Draken beams, ruffling Luna and Mana’s hair as they hug him around the waist.

“Hi Uncle Ken!” they exclaim, immediately making their way towards Emma. “Hi Auntie Em!” They snuggle her belly gently with their faces, crooning, “Hi baby!” Mitsuya told his family about Emma’s pregnancy during breakfast the same week he found out. His sisters have been excited since.

Emma giggles at the girls, petting their hair softly. “Do you want to see the picture?” She leads them into the living room, letting the two men handle the kitchen. Draken is making homemade pizzas tonight and tasks Mitsuya to cut some of the toppings while he preps an all-meat pie to go into the oven first.

“Thanks for letting us come over last minute,” he says quietly, slicing a button mushroom on the cutting board.

“No problem, man. You know how much we love the girls.” Draken pours a large ladle of tomato sauce over the dough, spreading it evenly. “What happened? Did your friend bail on you or something?”

He sighs. “More like I bailed on her.”

Draken hums, drizzling a layer of mozzarella cheese, covering the red. “Why’d you do that?”

“I don’t know. I think I’m kind of freaking out.”

He laughs, scattering crumbed sausage and pepperoni. “Calm and cool Takashi freaking out? You’re kidding.”

“I’m totally serious, man. It’s crazy.” He lets go of the knife, laying it flat on the counter, scooping the sliced mushrooms into a bowl, wiping his hands clean on a dish towel. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before.”

His friend slides the pizza into the hot oven, setting the timer accordingly. Mitsuya leans against the counter, watching him wash his hands at the sink, patting them dry with a clean paper towel. He places his hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly with a smirk on his face. “That, my dude, means you like her. And not just as a friend, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he mutters, swatting his hand away, handing him the bowl of mushrooms. “Is this…okay though?”

Draken cooks the veggies on a hot skillet, seasoning them with salt and pepper, asking, “Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

“I don’t want to bring her into this life. Isn’t it dangerous for her to be involved with a delinquent like me?”

He scoffs, turning off the heat once everything is cooked down, setting it aside. “You’re the one that told me you’d be a different type of delinquent, remember? One that cares for his family. And besides, you hatefighting. Out of all the fucking numbskulls in Toman, you’re the least dangerous.”

He contemplates this for a good minute, observing Draken assemble the vegetarian pizza with the remaining ingredients. Sighing, he says, “I don’t know if she’d even go for me.”

The second pie is placed in the rack below the first, another timer set. Draken wipes his hands, untying his apron from the back, giving his fellow twin dragon his full attention. “You won’t know unless you try, right? I don’t think she’d be spending her Friday nights with those little monsters if she didn’t like you.”

“She’s just a really nice person. She probably only sees me as a friend.”

“Show her your romantic side, then. How do you think I got Emma?” he teases, pointing his thumb at her. “I’m not as suave as I seem, despite what everyone thinks of me.”

Mitsuya grins, punching his friend in the arm playfully. “C’mon, she was already obsessed with you from the start. You had it easy.”

“No way! I worked hard to get with her! She wanted to be wooed, so I wooed her! And if I can do it, so can you. You’re a better man than me, and that’s really saying something.”

He smiles at him, feeling better than he did earlier today. “So you think I should confess to her?”

“Yeah, I do. You deserve to be happy. You’re always the one taking care of others, it’s about time someone takes care of you. And maybe Shimizu can do that for you.”

The timer beeps for the first pizza, interrupting their conversation. The girls in the other room hear the ding, cheering for the food being ready. They gather around the dining table, watching in awe as the cook cuts his creation with a pizza cutter, passing them each a slice. Emma fans their food with a paper plate, making sure it’s cool enough especially for the little ones to eat. Mitsuya sits silently in one of the chairs, Draken’s advice playing in his mind on a continuous loop, finally understanding what he needs to do. He’s already guilty for giving her the cold shoulder this afternoon; he won’t put this off any longer. Thankfully, there’s no Toman meeting tonight, so as soon as they’re home, he’ll call her to explain everything.

~~~

It's the first Friday you’ve had free in a month, and you spend it moping in your room, feeling sorry for yourself.

You miss the sewing lessons, staring at all the new patches you bought, not knowing how stitch them on your jean jacket. You miss the girls, who always make you feel radiant when they look up at you with the biggest smiles on their faces. Most of all, and you’re scared to admit it, you miss Mitsuya.

This isn’t just admiration anymore. It’s clear to you now what this is: You like him, you yearn for him. The kind twinkle in his eyes, his soothing voice guiding you, that gentle touch of your skin. You want more.

That’s why you’re particularly pitiful tonight. It could be your imagination, or your insecurities getting the best of you, but today, he was cold, completely opposite to how he’s been with you this entire time. He didn’t even look at you, not a single glance in your direction. His words came out harsh and emotionless, lacking any of the benevolence he usually conveys. Could it be that he discovered your secret crush on him? How could he when you didn’t realize it until now? Maybe he suspects it based on how you react to him. Have you really been that obvious? Worst of all, is he that disgusted by it that he no longer wants to spend time with you? So many questions race through your mind, all of them leading you to spiral, wondering what you did wrong.

Your parents notice your quiet demeanor during dinner. “Hana, are you alright?”

You lie, forcing a grin as you answer your mother. “I’m fine.”

“It’s been a while since you’ve been home on a Friday,” your dad comments, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Aren’t you happy to have today off from babysitting?”

“Sure,” you reply, scooping a spoonful of rice into your mouth, wanting this conversation to end.

“What’s that family’s name again? The Mitsuyas? I hope they’re treating you well.”

“They do, dad. Really well.”

“All that just for some sewing lessons. Really Hana, it doesn’t seem like a very fair trade – ”

“Okay, honey, that’s enough,” your mom interrupts, shooting him a look. “Hana seems to be enjoying it, that’s all that matters.”

He grumbles something under his breath, not speaking further about the subject.

Thankfully, he doesn’t bring it up again the rest of the night. After dessert, you bid them goodnight, retreating back into your room to snuggle under a blanket, idly watching a TV show, trying not to think about Mitsuya. You’re probably overthinking this; he really must be busy with something else.

By midnight, you get ready for bed, shutting off the lights to watch one more episode before you knock out. Halfway through, your eyes flutter closed on the verge of a sleep when your phone suddenly rings, startling you awake. You check it, confused as to who it could be at this time. When you see his name flash on the screen, your stomach turns, worried about why he would be calling you. Immediately, you answer, “Hello?”

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” His voice sounds mostly back to normal now, except for the hint of hesitance in his tone.

“No, you didn’t. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s great, actually. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

Thinking it’ll be through the phone, you respond quickly. “Sure.”

There’s shuffling in the background, keys jingling and a door shutting. “Can I come over? My sisters are asleep, and I won’t be long.”

You’re surprised at his suggestion, unsure what he could possibly want to discuss with you that has to be done in person. All too curious now, you agree, quickly changing into a sweater as he makes the short trip to your house. You wait for him outside, hugging yourself with your arms wrapped tightly around you, nervous for whatever he’s got to say. Soon, the headlights of his Impulse illuminate in the distance, shining brighter and brighter as he approaches you, slowing down to a stop in front of your driveway. He pops his helmet off, hanging it on one of the handles, a grin on his face as he greets you. “Hi.”

Warmth instantly surrounds your chest, heart beating a little faster in his presence. “Hi.”

“I’m sorry it’s so late. I just…I had to see you tonight.”

You swallow, saliva thick in your throat, anticipating. He continues. “I want to apologize for how I behaved earlier. I was freaking out and I wasn’t acting like myself. Still, that’s no excuse for how I treated you and I’m sorry.”

So it wasn’t just your imagination. Even so, he didn’t treat you poorly. Sure, he was short with you, but it doesn’t warrant a grand apology like this. “Mitsuya, it’s really okay. You didn’t need to come all the way out here to apolo– ”

“That’s not all,” he interjects, taking a step forward, a step closer. “There’s something else I need to tell you.” He takes a few deep breaths while you wait patiently for him, body jittering with fret. Finally, he says, “I like you, Shimizu. I have feelings for you.”

You gulp again, probably louder this time, shocked by his admission. In utter disbelief, you blurt out, “As a friend?” You’ve seen too many dramas and romance movies to know that misunderstandings exist, so you ask it to make sure. After all, you’ve never been confessed to before. You’re almost convinced this is a dream until he holds your hand tenderly in his, thumb brushing your knuckles delicately. Is this really happening? And with him of all people, the person you actually like back?

He gazes at you, eyes soft with kindness, smiling. “As a friend, and more than that. Do you understand?”

You nod slowly, trying to process it.

His smile widens. “Good. That’s all I wanted to say tonight. Thank you for listening to me.” He squeezes your hand gently, pulling away to break apart.

Before he can, you clench him firmly, keeping him in place. “I like you too, Mitsuya. As a friend, and more than that.”

He looks down at his feet, shaking his head. “You don’t have to say that – ”

It’s your turn to interrupt him this time, tugging him earnestly towards you. “I mean it! I’ve always liked you.”

He meets your gaze again. “Really?”

You shift your hand in his, interlocking his fingers with yours. “Yes.”

A goofy giggle escapes his mouth, and you can’t help but laugh with him, leaning closer to rest your forehead to his, noses barely brushing, lips nearly touching.

“Hana? What’s going on?” Your father’s concerned voice from the front door causes you to stagger backwards, separating quickly.

You turn around to face him, waving him off. “Nothing!” you squeak, heat rushing into your cheeks, embarrassed about almost getting caught.

“Who is this boy?” He steps out in his fuzzy slippers, brows furrowed, inspecting Mitsuya carefully. Your mom, wrapped in her cozy robe, stands beside him, doing the same.

“Takashi Mitsuya, sir. I’m sorry to bother you so late in the night. I just wanted to apologize to Shimizu for canceling our sewing lesson today. I’ll be going now.” He bows politely to your parents, sneaking a wink at you. “I’ll see you Monday?”

You nod at him, watching him swing one leg over his bike, snapping his helmet back on his head. He starts the engine, revving it while he cruises off into the direction he came in, returning to his own home. Once he’s gone, it’s dead silent except for the scattered chirping of crickets hidden in the grass. Both your parents have their arms crossed tight against their chests, stern expressions on their faces, waiting for you to explain. Instead, you feign a yawn, walking past them to head up the stairs. “Well, goodnight,” you mumble, rushing into your bedroom, locking it shut, snuggling into your pillow with the biggest smile on your face.

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