#and I had a panic attack on the road and had to pull over but Undertale helped inspire me to keep going
Note
Hi! Can you do daryl dixon x y/n where Daryl gets protective over y/n when a creepy guy won’t leave her alone no matter what she says so he punches him across the face, ending in like comforting fluff/ smut or both ❤️
Hello @dustbunniess!! This sounds like a great idea! I'm so so sorry it took me so long to get this out to you love so much has happened since you asked for this I'm just trying to get by.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader
Era: Post-Prison, Pre-Terminus Era (Claimers Era)
Pronouns: You/Your, She/Her (No use of Y/N)
Warnings: The Claimers, Daryl with the Claimers, Attempted Sexual Assault, Crass behavior and language, Swearing, Physical Violence, Assault, Blood, Panic Attacks, Confusion, Delusion, Daryl becoming a literal savage, Abuse, Death, Beatings, Daryl reliving past traumas, Doing what you have to survive, Things happen off screen,
Summery: After the prison fell you were left alone in a world you felt was unfair and cruel. And who could blame you? Truly after all you'd been through? You changed from the person you were in the prison. But then... so did everyone else... When Daryl your boyfriend is the first to find you out in the world you see just how much things have changed with the new group he's in.
Separate Ways
It was when the prison went up in flames that you knew it was over. There was no going back. No redemption. The governor… in some sick twist of fate. Had won. Although your family had taken his life, and the lives of all his followers. You were all left to suffer, and after such a horrendous outbreak that you all had thought you defeated too… The difference was. This time you were completely on your own. No friendly face to turn to. No guiding hand to help you. Just you and the corpse you stabbed in the skull.
You had followed the screams out. So sure you were following Rick and Carl… but so soon you realized you were completely and utterly wrong. Trudging through the woods towards the highway you knew was your Emergency escape route you cursed your lack of preparation. No water, no food. You knew you had to act fast. Find shelter before the sun completely set for the night, find food before you starved... trudging through the thick forest you quickly found a path to follow. It had paid off to have followed your boyfriend on so many hunting expeditions and to help him on runs.
Coming to a stop you stilled your breath slowly scanning the wooded area around you. Nothing but trees and leaves surrounded you even though you had thought you heard the soft crackle of leaves, the snapping of a twig behind you. It wasn't loud and obnoxious. Something you've come to expect of walkers by now. Nor was it natural and fluid like the wildlife you had so greatly come to miss. It felt human. Large and concise. Hunting. Shivers ran down your spine. Bobbing and weaving through the tree line you darted back out onto the road that you had left in favor of the camouflage of the forest. Pulling your rifle you aimed blindly. Footsteps coming nearer. Louder. Like a bear charging it even growled. Placing your finger on the trigger you stepped back. "Stop!" You yelled.
A boy scrawny and pale came tumbling out of the brush. No older than Carl he looked up to you, his eyes wide and fearful he shivered in fear. Plastered in mud and blood you stared him down panting as the adrenaline left you both. Slowly he raised his hands high, shaking like a leaf he shook his head. "I-I'm so sorry." He whispered. One of the governor's, you realized. "I-It's my sister. She's hurt real bad... please..."
Glaring daggers at the teen you hissed through your teeth, stepping forward your weapon still raised and pointed directly between his eyes. "And why should I help you?" You growled. "She's all I got left." He whispered a tear running down his cheek. Hmm... at one time in life you would have felt pity. You would have run to his aid in a heartbeat. Now... Now however you scoffed at him. "Shoulda thought about that before you got yerself blown ta hell and back." You hiss lowering your gun. With wide eyes the boy watches in disbelief as you sling your pack off your back and rummage through it. "Y-you're just going to let her die?!" He screamed. "Pretty much sounds like you are kid." You growl, pulling out the last of your protein bars before slinging your bag back over your shoulder. "Standing there ain't doin' her no favors so I'd hop to it if I were you." You muttered taking a bite of your bar and walking down the road a stretch. Stomping on the ground like a toddler who didn't get his way the kid whined. "No I'm asking you for help!" He yelled. You wanted to turn and glare. You wanted to yell and scream. Hell you wanted to shoot him. But the growling and the thick rustling of leaves alerted you to the oncoming horde early. In his rage he must not had heard. Until they were right on top of him. You wondered briefly if his sister was among them.
Alone again you let the road take you where it will. across a bridge and through a town that was overrun with walkers. It was there you adopted a few walkers to help you navigate the thick hordes in the streets. Releasing them into the next life once you made it to the next side of town you sighed the tire marks in town leading to a hospital you'd rather not go near. So instead a set of train tracks that you crossed became your path. Instinctively you listened for trains. Your boots worn with wear stuck in the wood and on the nails. It was there you saw the first sign. "Go to Terminus." Your heart swelled. You didn't know where they were. How close they were. But you had to hope. Maybe. Possibly. They were safe.
Resting against a garage for the night you closed your eyes for what felt like a mere second. It most certainly wasn't hours... or so you had thought. Leaves and twigs had become your best friend in this world. The early indicator of something to come. But this time it was more. Loud. Uncaring if it was heard. Jumping awake you reached for your gun by your side but before you could grab it a large boot kicked it away. The large man standing before you sneered at you. "So she's awake." He laughed as you pressed yourself as far into the metal wall as possible. Three more men stepped out of the woods around you both. The laughed and jeered at you kicking at your feet as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. "Bet she's good." One said. Another had the sheer audacity to grab a handful of your hair and sniff it. As you went to slap him another grabbed your hand the leader with the grey hair chuckled.
"Claimed."
Two voices chimed out at the exact same time. The leader's sleazy voice and another more familiar voice that made your chest hurt with expectancy. You had waited. Hoped. Dreamed. Hell you even dared to pray for the day to come again where you'd hear your love's sweet voice again. But not here. Not now. Not looking down the barrel of weapons pointed against you.
The leader turned. Glaring at the man who dared to oppose him. Stepping into the light of the moon Daryl looked... different. Changed. His eyes were distant and dark even in the night. "Daryl..." The leader hummed his scowl melting as he turned to the archer. Tutting slightly he shook his head snapping his fingers the other men moved in on you. Two men grabbed your upper arms, hauling you to your feet while the others grabbed your shit. "C'mon now..." He growled. Giving your boyfriend a look. "Ya know better by now than to try and just claim whatever ya want... specially if ya know I'm gonna claim it." He cooed circling Daryl menacingly.
You had expected Daryl to act. The Daryl you knew would have. He would never have stood there and took the shit these creeps were giving either of you... but this Daryl... this one you knew in passing but never truly met before... he bowed his head. He turned away. He simply murmured something low. Soft. Something you couldn't hear.
The leader nodded eyeing you. His expression morphing. From wolfish and greedy to concentrated and scanning. "A'ight..." He sighed running his hand through his hair. "You gonna let us teach him a lesson?!" One of the men currently bruising your arm screamed. The others rallied behind him. Cheering and jeering they whooped and hollered. The men holding you jerked you back and forth making you stumble back and forth between the two. There was silence and for a moment contemplation on the leader's face that made your heart race. "Search her... Daryl and I got business to discuss." He growled turning around he spun your boyfriend with him grabbing him by the shoulder and dragging him into the woods.
They dumped the contents of your bag onto the ground. Screams of "Claimed" ripped through the air and you were certain you'd be overrun by a horde any moment. Ripped apart limb from limb by the dead you had survived for years because of a few fucking morons. When all of your supplies including the bag itself and your rifle and ammo were claimed... the men turned their eyes on you.
"Can't touch 'em til Boss gets back." One chimed in as a particularly greedy one stepped forward. "Yeah... but she got pockets don't she?." The man hummed placing his hands on your waist. The others whistled and hollered once more as you backed away as far as the other two would let you.
"Don't you fucking touch me!" You hissed, baring your teeth to the bastard. Nodding he chuckled following you he grabbed you once more this time burying his hands deep in your pockets, attempting to cop a feel. Rearing your head back you growled and head butted the man landing a blow directly onto his nose. The satisfying crunch it left and the blood that trickled down between your brows onto your cheeks like war paint was proof enough. "I told ya not ta fuckin' touch me!" You screamed.
"Hey!" You heard the leader scream from inside the barrier of the forest. Immerging from the shadows of the trees the leader stormed up to the group with Daryl following behind like a kicked puppy. The one you hit writhed on the ground holding his face he whine and whimpered as the others parted like the sea for the leader who grabbed you by the jaw getting close enough to smell the rancid canned food on his breath. "You really got some fuckin' nerve." He bit out. It took everything in you not to spit in is filthy fucking face.
Standing back up straight the man huffed glaring down at you a glint in his eye you didn't like. "Now boys... as you know Daryl and I both called dibs at the same time..." All eyes on you. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat ready to fight to your last breath. "Now Daryl has made me aware of something very important here... a rule. See he did... in fact... call dibs first. He called dibs Long LONG before he met us. This here... This is his wife."
Wife? You blinked but tried not to look too surprised. Daryl was locking eyes with you. A quiet desperation there only you could see. Keep the act up. Stay strong. You glanced between Daryl and the leader. You felt the man holding your right arm tighten his grip adding another fresh bruise to your bicep. "Bull shit." He growled, his hands slid down your arm to your wrist twisting it back and up painfully so that you yelped out in pain and doubled over. "I don't see a fuckin' ring on her finger!" He yelled.
You heard footsteps. Not one set but two approaching you. "He's right... no ring..." The leader spoke directly above you. His boots shufled to turn towards Daryl's. "But..." He spoke again his boots shifting again as you felt a new calloused hand take your left hand, the promise ring you bore sliding off your ring finger made you feel naked and cold. "You were looking at the wrong hand..." The leader said his voice low and cold. The man holding your right arm released his grip stumbling back. Sitting back up you twisted out of the other man's hands for a second before he took your wrist lightly.
The leader held your promise ring up examining it. Your initials were carved into the inside of the ring. Something Daryl had done himself with his knife back at the prison when he found a set having stolen the idea from Glenn of course. "Teach him a lesson boys." The man grunted out gesturing with his head to the man who shook his head and begged for his life. You stood stock still as the others circled him like sharks to the drops of blood that fell from his face. Even Daryl who's eyes went as dark as the night nodded to the command, picking up something from the ground.
Your vison blurred, all you could see was Daryl's back. Blood splattering. You heard the screaming. Jumping at the hand on your shoulder you looked to the man turning you away from it all. "I haven't properly introduced myself yet." He murmured watching you swipe pink tears from your cheeks. "I'm Joe. I'm the leader of this here group. The Claimers. We don't normally keep women long... They get passed around a bit and then... well we get bored and they end up roaming as one of the other biters." He chuckled eyeing you up. Hyperventalating you shook your head pulling away slightly when you felt his arm wrap around your waist. "Now now," He whispered in your ear. "You're a valued honorary memeber." He cooed but his expression became cold and dark. "That means... you work for what you keep. You start with shit. And half yer shit goes to Daryl. Like in any good marriage." He said menacingly, grabbing your wrist. "Oh and one last thing... I get to taste you one time... just part of the deal Daryl and I worked out to let you live."
Cut between confusion and pain you wondered if all the promises Daryl ever made to keep everyone safe were in vain. Who was he? Was he really the man you met back at the Quarry and fell in love with? No... Probably not... He was different. Changed. Evolved into something different. Looking over your finger as Joe slipped your ring back on your finger you felt sick to your stomach. This Daryl, dripping in another man's blood was animalistic. He was brutal and cold.
That night Joe told everyone to just bunk down in the garage. Safer. He said. You tried to clear your head of the mess of a human corpse outside the metallic walls. Following close behind the others you followed Daryl like a lost puppy. "Claimed" Echoed through the building as all the "good" spots were being taken. But Daryl just stood. He waited out in the open and waited with you by his side. Never once looking at you or acknowledging your existence. "Dar-" You tried to speak but was only ignored as he turned away once everyone went quiet. "Claimed." He yelled out when he found the most secluded spot in the garage behind a tarped tactor.
Pointing to the ground he looked around for a moment, waiting for your to sit on the ground. "Dar-" Shaking his head he knelt pulling a blanket from his bag he tossed it over you. "Here." He muttered. Not looking at you. Never looking at you. He stood and walked back out of the garage.
Even with the wool blanket you felt alone and cold. Even more so than when you were actually traveling alone. You hated it. This feeling of abandonment. Blinking back tears your glared at the ceiling wrapping yourself tight in your blanket you tried to fall asleep.
Hours passed. You hadn't slept. How could you with the men snoring like chainsaws all night. But the door opening and closing quietly didn't go unnoticed. Rolling over you turned to Daryl as he approached you slowly. Kicking his boots by your feet he laid down beside you. Lifting the blanket you welcomed him into the warm environment you created with time. You fully expected him to turn you away. To roll away and huff. But instead he scooted close. pulling the blanket over you both.
His arms were around you in a second. Finding tender blossoming bruises he burried his face in your neck. The wetness of his cheeks stained your dirty shirt. "Thought I lost you." He whispered. "Wasn't gonna let anyone take you... Not..." He went silent pulling you as tight as ever. Happiness and warmth swelled in you. Love and security. Wrapping your arms around his neck you kissed the top of his head, running your fingers through his wet hair.
Truth be told he still smelled like a wet dog. Musty and damp. But he washed off. Didn't stop you from feeling angry and betrayed. "Daryl... Why did you tell Joe..." You swallowed the doubt that still reigned suprieme and rampaged like a tornado in your mind. "Why did you tell him he could... have me?" There was a moment Daryl was silent. You thought he would lie. He would divert the situation. But instead he pushed himself up on his elbows and cocked a brow. "Never said that." He whispered. "Did that prick say that to ya? Say ya owed him somethin? "He whispered his eyes scanning you worriedly. You nodded slowly watching his reaction. Nodding Daryl hummed. "Ok."
Blinking you tried to read his face in the dark. "O-Ok?" You whispered. Nodding he lowered himself down to your ear. "Can't say out loud what I want to do ta the bastard. Someone could hear." He breathed. "Oh..." You tensed. You eyes instinctively scanning for threats but the dark felt claustrophobic and you wanted to simply run.
You were kicked awake early the next morning. You hadn't even realized you had fallen asleep. Another night of closing your eyes and suddenly jerking awake to danger feeling entirely unrested... Nothing new but you could never get used to it either. "Up an 'em, sweetheart." The man with greasy hair murmured. In the morning light you could see the shiner that was swelling half the man's face. A large cut ran down his forehead to his cheek that in the old world would have required stitches to keep it from scaring but now would just prove as a lesson to the man to listen better in Joe's twisted system. "Waistin' daylight..." He growled once more glaring at your boy- No. Your husband.
Daryl seemed to respond in kind. Huffing at the man he stood with a low painful groan. "Let's go." He murmured softly offering a hand to you.
You followed on Daryl's heels throughout the day like a duckling to their mother. Keeping your eyes on the wings on his back, you tried to stay strong and keep from physically acting on the men who treated you more like an object than a human. "Why you carryin' yer own bag when you got a bitch ta do it fer ya?" The rotund one called, chuckling as you moved to Daryl's left away from him. "No on would blame ya if ya went off and unwound on her for a bit... hell I'd even let the boys have a turn when I was done." One of the men with a beanie called out smirking at you from across the crick you had all stopped at to refill your canteens in. Holding your middle you glared at him. Daryl stood handing you your canteen. Reaching out you caressed his arm to sooth him. You were safe if he was here. He couldn't be if he was hurt or dead. He needed to act rashly.
"Shut up." He hissed despite it all. The Dixon temper was never one that could easily be quelled. When pushed down it only became more explosive. More dangerous. "What did you fucking say to us?" The three men rounded you. "We're just tryin' ta be friendly like." The greasy haired man that woke you growled. "Don't need no friends." Daryl growled stepping up to him. "Daryl." You whispered, reaching out to touch him but decided against it when you saw the crazed look in your husband's eye.
"Enough."
Joe's commanding voice ripped the fight apart before it could start. "Len, go fetch some firewood and scout the area. Got a feeling we could get lucky 'round here. Tony, go sharpen that damned blade of yours it couldn't cut butter if we had any for fuck's sake let alone take a biter down if we needed. Dan, fuck off with Len. Set up a perimiter. Daryl. Go hunting for dinner." Joe gave out orders like it was nothing. But your heart pounded in your chest and and nearly leaped into your throat when he met your throat reaching into his bag to grab something. You watched Daryl closely. Every muscle tense and primed to act in case Joe acted pulling something. His hand snaking to the pistol he had hidden at his back.
"Honey, I need ya ta wash our shit. Our clothes, specially our socks and boxers are really starting to get ripe and chafe us. I think you could handle that much... huh?" He purred walking up to you handing a small bundle of used men's socks and boxers. The smell was horrendous and made bile rise to your throat. You had to force yourself to breath the same way you would in a hot summer day around a horde of walkers to get by. "Ok..." You whimpered nodding. Freezing when you felt his hand on your shoulder you stood stock still. "And, sweetheart..." He hummed, his grip becoming incredibly painful his soft expression turning hard. "It's sir to you... Yes, sir. Say it." Whimpering you tried not to give into him. You didn't fall to your knees or bow as he desperately wanted you to. Instead you turned to glare at him your hair swirling around your, a single tear as his only satisfaction. "Sir, yes, sir." You growl stumbling as he pushed you forward into the water.
Hours passed by. Joe gave you meaningless task after meaningless task. Anything to see you in a compromising position. Scrub his boots. Wash his hair. Wash your hair. Sort their bags. Weave a basket. (Something you didn't know how to do and utterly failed in doing.) When he ran out of tasks to give you he made things up. Jump in place in front of him. He tried to make you bathe in the crick but when you threatened to cut his balls off he laughed and said it was a joke.
"Hey..." Len's voice cut through your newest meaningless task. picking up acorns while Joe watched. Looking over your shoulder you cocked a brow at the man that seemed far too excited to have just been told to fuck off for a few hours. "We found something." Dan muttered. Walking out of the woods with a string of rabbits Daryl glared hard at the ground. You'd seen him through the treeline throughout the course of the day. Taking aim at Joe at certain angles when he was certain the older man wasn't looking. But Joe always laughed or shook his head. "I know your watching Daryl. Go back to hunting." Or a promise of "I won't touch if you don't shoot."
"We found a camp!" Len cheered, pulling you from your thoughts. "A camp?" You breathed without thought. "Hell yeah girl." Joe murmured misreading your concern for excitment and curiousity. Or rather ignoring it completely as he slapped you hard on the back making you drop the acorns you gathered. "Come on let's show our newbie how it's done..." Joe said smiling so much like the devil that when you actually met him years later you'd never believe it.
The camp was small. It only housed two people. A man and a woman. The woman gathered baby supplies on a pink baby blanket before her. Brunette hair caught the wind just so that her face was concealed an you never truly saw her face. The man was undoubtedly in love with the woman. From the distance you hid you swore the couple were Glenn and Maggie. Your heart pounded deep in your chest. Your breath caught in your throat and you had to stop the scream that threatened to rip through you.
"We flank from all sides." Joe whispered so low you could barely hear him over the ringing of your ears. "Daryl." He whispered, moving closer to the two of you as the others moved into position. "I want to actually see you in there this time. No late arrivals." He hummed nodding as Daryl grunted in response.
"C'mon." No.
"Darlin'... We need ta move." Daryl whispered. No, God please no.
Your entire body shook, your eyes wide as saucer plates. Moving forward in the brush you only stopped when you felt Daryl's hand on yours. Turning to Daryl fear in your eyes you shook your head. Not again.
Pulling you away into the denser brush as Joe began his speech to the couple you could just barely see the others moving in.
Your body jerked when the screams started. Pulling at Daryl's hand you sobbed hard. "Daryl!" You wailed only to be pulled back his hand covering your mouth so your sobs were muffled. "It ain't them." He whispered. Pulling you incredibly tight you felt him bury his face in the crook of your neck hot tears rolling down your collar bone mixing with your own. "It can't be them."
That night you all slept under the stars. Fire lit and as warm as you could be in the middle of fall you and Daryl were of the first to retire, finding a spot in the dirt to bed down you laid against a large tree your back pulled against him. Just like when you two started dating out on the road. His wool blanket provided enough warmth to the both of you that the ground didn't bother you. Even with the rocks and roots digging into your side.
Just as you started to nod off you jerked awake to the sound of sets of heavy drunken footsteps. Daryl's arm wrapped tight around your middle. pulling you close. The others had found liquor at the camp and indulged heavily in it. Only Daryl and Joe refused to touch it.
"Claimed!" One man screamed loud. Belligerent. The smell of booze stained the air and made your empty stomach turn. "Nuh-uh." Another hissed. "I already claimed that spot." Len... Daryl had told you to watch out for him. He had an issue with claiming what wasn't his. he'd claimed what little food Daryl could get out hunting while on patrol.
"Bull shit!" The other man, you assumed to be Ivan screamed back. "It's true!" You tried to tune them out, squeezing your eyes shut breathing slowly, hoping you and Daryl went unnoticed. But as the fight got worse and worse you couldn't help the way you physically jumped when Tony landed on the ground on his back near by the two of you. Covering your mouth Daryl pulled you tight against his body as the two men rolled onto the wool blanket then off again.
You couldn't sleep after that even if sleep found the two that fought just a few moments ago. Turning to Daryl you buried yourself deep in his chest. "What was the wife thing about?" You got the courage to ask when all was quiet and the snores of the men matched the previous night. Shaking his head Daryl laid back staring at the night sky. He was silent for a moment. Whether he was waiting for a break in the snoring or simply listening for any eave's droppers you'd never know. "Probably shoulda done it a long time ago... just..." His words fell off going silent. Sitting up you captured his eyes in yours. "I love you, Daryl." You whispered. "We'll find them... I promise." But he remained cold. His eyes dark, distant. "Get some sleep."
Time seemed to go in a blur after that. Days and nights melded together. Didn't matter which was which truly. You never felt rested. Your stomach never empty. Daryl attempted to feed you his portions. But as the lowest on the poll he got scraps as it was and you hated taking what he had.
You were tired and underfed when you found Rick, Michonne, and Carl. You had believed that they were just visions when you first saw them. Len held you by the arm. "Gotta make sure she gets in on the action with this one!" He yelled, jerking you around. Wide eyed and in disbelief you gapped like a fish. These people looked just like your family.
"Rick?" You managed. Silence. Joe turned to you his eyes questioning before he gripped you hard. Jerking away you tried to free yourself from his grasp. "Hey! Let her go!" Michonne screamed from the grasp of another man. "Don't you fuckin' touch her!" Carl cried. You nearly wailed out and fell to your knees in pure bliss and euphoria. Hearing their voices. Knowing for a fact they were real. But you were on the ground before you could act. Your face to the pavement you groaned as a boot ground against the back of your skull holding you there. "I've got one free ticket to paradise here boys... why not use it while the pickin's good?" Joe hummed.
You screamed as hands grabbed at you before you could even process the cold pavement below or the screams of your family by your side. Swinging with all your might in any direction you could get a good hold on you connected a few good hits. The yelling from your family was nightmarish. You forced yourself to close your eyes Not wanting to witness or watch what could possibly be happening. Daryl had shielded you last time. Alone you felt vulnerable and terrified.
The boot on your head made your head pound and ache. It was crushing your head and it felt as if your brains would spill if they stepped any harder. Your hair was yanked. Your blouse cut down the back. But before anything else could happen. The person on your head. Joe you believed. Stumbled off. A resounding smacking of knuckles to skin echoing through the woods. Sitting up your shirt slid from your shoulders as you stared wide eyed at Daryl. He had gotten one good swing in. Glancing to you was his downfall. He was dogpiled before he had the chance to say otherwise but the others forgot the knife in your boot. They forgot to check Carl or Michonne in their haste.
Blood pooled on the highway. The five of you stood gasping as one family unit once more, covered in blood but victorious above all odds. Gasping and staring down at the ugly hideous creatures below you, tears rolled down your cheeks. Daryl once again refused to look at you. Instead he offered his vest to you to cover you up with. Instead he turned and glanced to Rick a heartbroken boy staring at a man looking for forgiveness.
You were enveloped by Michonne and Carl before you could say other wise. Not that you would ever pull away ever again. Pulling them close you watched the makeshift brothers share a silent conversation. One guarded and afraid.
The other loving and accepting willing to forgive.
Rick held Daryl tight as he cried and the three of you migrated to them. Hugging them tight you rested your head on Daryl's shoulder, closing your eyes. For the first time since the fall... there was a small flicker of hope.
#the walking dead#twd#daryl dixion x reader#daryl dixon#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl x reader#twd daryl#the walking dead daryl#dark fic#dark themes#dark thoughts#the claimers#twd the claimers#tw violence#long post
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Skate Day Gone Wrong - Matthew Tkachuk
a/n: this was a cute little idea i had a while ago when i first started getting hockey content on tiktok :) it took me longer than i expected with everything going on, but i think it turned out cute!
warnings: mentions of hospitals, beginning of a panic attack (briefly mentioned, not too descriptive)
summary: matt begs you to go skating with him but it takes a turn for the worst when you end up falling down on the ice
word count: ~4.6k
“Come on, it’ll be so much fun!” Matthew begs you, grabbing your hands and squeezing them gently. A sigh passes your lips and your eyes fall to your entwined hands, a small grin stretching on your face as you realize he’s been rubbing his thumb back and forth against the back of your hand.
“You know I’m not as graceful, baby. It’ll be a disaster.” He pulls the puppy-dog eyes as soon as you finish your sentence. But it wasn’t going to get by you this time.
Matt was trying to get you to go skating with him at the local ice rink. He wanted, and he deserved, a break from hockey, but he couldn’t stay away from the ice and exercise in some capacity. But since the start of your relationship, you were very clear with him that you were like a newborn deer in ice skates.
“It’ll be a nice little date! I’ll hold onto you the entire time, you never have to let go of my hand, I won’t let you fall, I promise. You have my word,” he holds out his pinky to seal his words. You sigh once more, finally looking up into bright blue eyes, filled with hope and excitement. That alone was enough for you to change your mind.
“Okay,” you finally agree, and within a second, Matt celebrates by tackling you in a hug, your laughter mixing together to fill the otherwise silent bedroom of his.
“Yay!! This is going to be so much fun, I have been wanting to get you on the ice with me for the longest time,” he admits, pressing kisses all over your face, eliciting more giggles from you.
“I know you have, but I went once when I was younger and couldn’t find my balance, I ended up falling pretty hard. My cousins made fun of me for it and everything, so it’s something I avoided.” Matt coos softly and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear so tenderly.
“Well, I won’t do that, and like I said, I won’t even let you fall. Not gonna happen on my watch, darling.” He kisses you a couple times, his hand remaining on your cheek, sending warmth through your body.
“I fucking hope. Otherwise you’ll be taking care of me the entire time.” He chuckles quietly and crawls into bed with you, wraping his arms around you instantly, and you instinctively curl into his soft, warm chest.
“Not sure how I’ll be able to with the upcoming road trip we have,” he replies.
“Then you better keep that promise of yours, Chucky.”
The following day, Matthew was up bright and early, preparing breakfast for the both of you and getting everything he needed ready to head to the rink. He planned on just taking his skates and wearing a simple pair of jeans and a black sweatshirt, no gear or anything was needed, really; he wasn’t needing to do any drills or practice anything anyways.
“Morning, sweetheart,” he greets you with a kiss on your forehead and then your cheek. Groaning, you shield your eyes from the blinding sun slicing through the curtains. Matt always loved this time of day, being a morning person, he was able to admire your beauty as you slept, like an angel in his eyes, glowing in the golden, natural light.
“Too early,” you grumble, causing him to laugh softly. To add to the dramatics, you grab the comforter and pull it up over your head, not wanting to leave the comfort and warmth of his bed just yet. One of your favorite places was being in his bed, enveloped in the smell of him, from both his cologne and his body wash.
“Hey, you agreed to this, we go early and then grab some lunch at your favorite restaurant,” he reminds you, removing the cover from your head. You squint your eyes and stare up at him, finding a sly grin on his face. “Come on, I made your favorite.”
After five more minutes of Matthew playing with your hair and trying to coax you out of bed, you finally get up and head downstairs, where he had everything plated and prepared for you. He made chocolate chip pancakes with turkey bacon, fresh fruit, and scrambled eggs with cheese. You were so glad that Matt loved to cook, otherwise you’d just be having a simple granola bar instead of a nice, cooked meal.
“Alright, I have everything packed and ready to go, so if you want to go get dressed while I put everything away and wash the dishes,” Matt says, taking your empty plate and setting it in the sink with his.
Once you were dressed in a sweater and jeans, all your usual jewelry on, and perfume sprayed a few times, you join your boyfriend in the living room, where he sat scrolling through his phone. Hearing your footsteps, his head pops up and a huge smile spreads across his lips as he jumps to stand.
“Ready?” His hand reaches for yours and you follow him out to his car. While you were getting dressed, he took time to put his duffle bag in the backseat, so you could just get up and go when you were done.
The drive consisted of soft music from your shared playlist, and Matt’s hand in yours, gently stroking the back of it like he did this morning, and like he always does when you two hold hands. It was a rather gloomy February day in Florida, and despite others hating it, you loved it; cloudy weather was so comforting, when it didn’t mean tornadoes and severe weather.
Thankfully, it wasn’t too crowded at the rink, considering it was a weekday at ten in the morning, it was the perfect slot to spend time with Matt and also not make a fool of yourself completely if you were to have an accident.
Once your skates were rented, Matt helped you lace them up, talking you through it all since he could tell your nerves were starting to kick in.
“They have to be laced pretty tight, and figure skating ones are different from mine, but they kinda work the same. So…” his voice tapers off as he finishes tying them, “that should be good. Do they feel alright? Not too tight to the point where you can’t feel your shin?”
His hands take ahold of yours as he helps you stand and walk along the padded area to get a feel for them. He already had such a wide smile on his face because he was so happy that you were finally going to share the space he loved being at the most, aside from being with you, of course.
“Yeah, I think they’re good,” you let him know, heading back over to the bench you were sat on. He finishes tying his own skates, something he has mastered to do quickly at this point in his life, and before you know it, he is walking you over to the entrance to the ice.
Immediately, you freeze, but Matt steps onto the ice like it’s no issue.
“Remember what I promised you, baby?” He raises his eyebrows in concern. Fear was very evident in your eyes, and as much as he wanted you to skate at least one time around with him, he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries or push you too far. “Hey…it’s gonna be okay. Why don’t you sit down for a little while more?”
He guides you to a nearby bench and stands behind you, giving your shoulders a small, comforting massage. Leaning down, he kisses your cheek swiftly and then comes around to sit beside you.
“We can sit here for as long as you want until you are ready, if you are,” he reassures you. “We don’t even have to do this today. You coming with me has been enough.”
His sweet sounding voice calms your anxiety almost instantly, something you noticed over the months as your relationship progressed. He always knew the right thing to say, as well as the tone to use in moments where you needed it most.
After a few more minutes of sitting there staring at the ice, you inhale and exhale deeply, turning your head to Matt, who raises his eyebrows in curiosity, his bright eyes filled with concern and worry.
“I’m ready,” you grin, trying to convince him that you’ll be okay. “I just have to do it scared.”
He sighs and shakes his head, reaching for your hands to squeeze them comfortingly.
“Honey, don’t say that. We really don’t have to do this, I can see how scared it’s making you.”
“No, let’s go. I really am ready.” He pauses for a moment just to make sure you are serious, and when you try to stand, he follows you and brings you back over to the entrance of the rink.
He steps onto the ice and holds his hands out for you, his own heart racing with anxiety. He was a pro, but he didn’t know if he’d be the best at assisting, even though he made numerous promises.
“It’ll be okay, honey. Just grab my hand and I’ll keep you balanced.”
With a small step onto the ledge, you step with your other foot onto the ice, your heart pounding in your chest and your body cold from fear.
“It’s alright, darling. That’s it. Now, you want to kick off with one foot and lead with the other. Can you try that?”
Taking his advice, you move as if you’re trying to walk like normal, but obviously that doesn’t work out too well. But he was calm and patient with you.
“No, not quite. Here, hold onto the wall for a moment and I’ll show you.”
Clutching onto the wall like your life depended on it, he takes a moment to skate in front of you very effortlessly, not at all surprising considering skating is like second nature to him.
He comes back around and smiles widely, stopping just a few feet in front of you. You stare at him blankly, as if to say “are you fucking serious?”
“Come on, try it,” he pushes, reaching back out for your hands to coax you from the wall. Bracing yourself, you gently nudge yourself from the wall and follow him, attempting to copy his movements.
“There you go! You so got this,” he beams with pride.
Still, you stumble here and there but his strong grip keeps you standing. Before you know it, you realize that you made an entire lap around the rink. Just to be safe, Matt steps off the ice and wrap you up in a celebratory hug
“You did it! I’m so proud of you, baby!” He plants soft kisses all over your face, eliciting a giggle from you.
“Yeah, yeah. That’s because you were basically pulling me.”
“It was all you, believe me. I was there for guidance only. Wanna go around again?” This time, you nod eagerly and put one foot back on the ice, allowing him to get his footing first before you place your other down.
Just like before, although you were starting to get the hang of it, you stride along as gracefully as you can, following behind your lover, who easily skates backwards, keeping his eyes on you the entire time.
“And you said you were like a newborn deer. You are far from it,” he jokes, speeding up just a little bit. Laughing, you squeeze his hands to silently let him know to slow down some, which he understands and pauses for a moment, slowing you to crash into his chest.
He wraps his arms tightly around you to keep you upright, pressing a single, sweet kiss to your lips, keeping his forehead on yours after.
“I love you,” he whispers, his eyes filled with love and adoration. “And I’m very glad you decided to do this today. I’ve had so much fun and it’s been so nice being able to do this together.”
“I’ve had a lot of fun as well. It’s not as bad as I remember it.”
“Because you’re here with me,” he winks slyly, giggling when you hit him in the shoulder playfully
“You might be right, baby.”
There’s a pause as you both just stand there, holding each other and enjoying the other’s presence. A few people populated the ice, but they stayed near the middle, chatting and taking their time practicing some figure skating tricks. You and Matt were pretty much alone, it felt like in this moment.
“Wanna try skating on your own, hm?” He asks in a hushed voice. “I’ll still be right there with you, just not holding you.”
Thinking over it for a moment, he waits for your answer, and is very surprised when you nod in agreement, his eyes widening in shock and curiosity.
“Wait really??” He had to double check to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.
Soon, you were standing in front of him, your legs even with your shoulders, hands still in Matt’s for now.
“Okay, remember, push off and keep your skates close to the ice. Let me know when to let go and I will.”
Taking a deep breath, you look down at the ice beneath your feet and focus hard. He starts staking backwards, building up some speed and momentum for you, whenever you were ready.
“Okay, I think I’m good,” you tell him, slowly releasing the tight grip you have on his hands.
“Nice job, baby! Move that left foot a little smoother!” You try to do as he says, but the farther he gets from you, the more worried you grow. He was still within reach, but only if he happened to slow down.
Suddenly, you feel your balance start to wobble, and your knees shake ever so slightly. You could feel yourself losing your balance as your momentum eases.
“Matt,” you call out, your voice shaking just like your legs.
“You’re doing good, don’t think about it too hard.” He was no help, seeming so far away, too far for your comfort.
But it was too late.
Your foot catches beneath you and slips, and within seconds, you were falling to the ground. Matt’s voice filled your ringing ears, but you couldn’t make out a word he said. All you felt was pain.
“Hey, hey! Look at me,” he cradles your cheek, moving you as gently as ever to sit up from where you fell on your arm.
Wincing, you attempt to scoot a little, but with your right hand cradling your arm against your chest, that proved to be difficult.
“I can’t move my arm,” you tell him, tears beginning to spill over your eyes and down your cheeks. Matt grew more and more concerned as time went by, not knowing how serious of a situation this was just yet.
“Did you land on it? Where does it hurt the most?” Bringing your wrist in front of you, you show him and lightly touch the area, but even that’s too much of a sensation.
“No, no, it hurts so bad,” you cry into his chest. His eyes were wide with fear and pain of his own, knowing that the person he loves the most is hurt, and because of him? That makes it so much worse.
While you continue to cry into his shoulder, Matt waves over the person watching over the rink, making sure that if someone did get hurt they’d be assisted to as soon as possible. And not even a few seconds after Matt signals this, a medic is rushing over, ready to help in any way he can.
“Come on, we’re gonna stand up, alright?” Matt whispers in your ear, trying to remain as calm as he can. He holds your right arm tightly, the medic helping by holding your skates to secure your balance.
It took a bit, but they finally get you standing up, but Matt being Matt, decided to carry you off the ice, even though it was a short length; he wasn’t taking any more risks.
He sits you down on the closest bench and the medic comes over to assess your injury. Matt held your right hand the entire time as a way to comfort you, kissing the back of it every now and then.
“Take deep breaths, baby girl. That’s it,” he whispers, taking some of his own to help ground you and soothe your anxiety.
“You should head to the hospital. It appears to be broken, but I can’t confirm that without an x-ray. You can’t move it, it’s tender to the touch, something is definitely wrong.”
Your heart sinks to your stomach and your eyes drift to Matt. He nods in agreement, lips tightly pressed together, seemingly attempting to keep himself from crying. He thanks the medic, who gathers his things before heading off.
“Let’s go,” he mumbles, beginning to take your skates off for you, and then following with removing his own. He doesn’t say much the entire time, mainly because he doesn’t know what to say. This was his fault, you got hurt on his watch, and he was beating himself up over it silently, but you had an idea of what was going through his mind.
Matt helps you to the car but before he gets into the driver’s seat after shutting your door, he crouches down and takes a few deep breaths, feeling his anxiety rising and the start of an attack; thankfully, it goes away and a minute later, he hops in the driver’s seat and drives off in the direction of the nearest hospital.
A few hours spent there, in the very quiet emergency room that smelled so strongly of cleaning products, it was confirmed that you broke a bone on the outer part of your wrist, as well as a small bone in your thumb joint.
Four hours later, the two of you are walking into Matthew’s home, a light blue cast on your wrist, exhausted and desperately wanting pain medication. Matt drops his duffle bag with his skates on the ground, no intention of putting it away anytime soon.
Not many words are spoken between the two of you, and Matt heads to the bathroom to get you some ibuprofen and water. He returns and finds you curled up on the couch, scrolling through to try and find a movie or show to watch.
He kisses your forehead and also gets an ice pack for you from the freezer, and once he situates it on your cast, he heads upstairs to his bathroom, taking his time to shower and get dressed in comfy clothes. Realizing you had yet to eat anything but a small bag of chips, he quickly orders your favorite takeout from his phone to be delivered within the next twenty minutes.
Matt felt awful. He didn’t want to go downstairs and face you, this was his fault. He wasn’t able to keep you safe and unharmed, and he was terrified of what you were going to say to him now that you are in the comfort of his home.
But, he knew he had to face the issue and go down there to hold you in his arms, to care for you now that you’ve gotten hurt.
He takes a torn, old shirt of his and a pair of sweats before heading back downstairs. There, he finds you half asleep, watching an episode of Catfish, though he could tell you were barely paying attention.
“How are you feeling?” He finally speaks, coming to sit next to you. Your head lifts up and you smile at him.
“The medicine kicked in a little bit ago so it’s not terrible. I’m just tired.” A sigh passes his lips and he so desperately wants to reach for your hand, but he doesn’t.
“I know, baby. We’re gonna take the rest of the night slow. I ordered some food so you’ll be able to eat. I can help you shower if you want to, all we have to do is wrap a plastic bag around your hand. I’ll take care of everything.”
His voice held so much hurt and regret. Sighing yourself, you grab his hand with your right hand and squeeze it softly, letting him know you are fine.
“Matt, it’ll be okay. I know you’re beating yourself up over this, but I need you to understand that it’s not your fault.”
“It is. I forced you onto the ice when you didn’t want to go.”
“I distinctly remember agreeing to go because I wanted to do that with you, Matthew. I wanted to skate with you, I wanted to try it on my own, and it’s not like you shoved me to the ground or tripped me. I was my clumsy self and lost my footing.”
“But I should have listened to you when you told me you weren’t that good on the ice.”
“I was until I wasn’t. And that’s not your fault.” Matt’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion, but you brush it off. “Overall, I’m not upset with you, I don’t regret going, and I sure as hell won’t hold this against you. Accidents happen, baby, and that’s okay.”
Matt listens to your words and finally nods. He brings your entwined hands up to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to your own.
“I love you,” he whispers, staring down into your eyes. “I love you so much, you have no idea.” Chuckling softly, you lean over and kiss him, finally feeling able to get up and move around a bit.
“I love you too, honey. Always will.”
After devouring the takeout food Matt ordered and icing your cast once more, Matt brings you upstairs, two plastic bags and a couple hair ties in his hands. With ease, he wraps your cast in the bags, securing it with the hair ties. He was tender and sweet as he helped you shower, planting kisses on your cheek or your bare shoulder every now and then, taking matters into his own hands and washing your hair and body for you.
Drying off and making sure you were comfortable in the clothes he picked out, you both head back to the couch and curl up, Matt getting another ice pack for you as the pain meds start to wear off a little. He kept them nearby on the coffee table just in case.
You had picked out a movie to watch just as rain had started falling on the house, a calming sound to ease your mind. Matt had you tucked into his left side, your cast-ridden hand laying on his stomach. The moment you took the ice pack off, Matt brings your hand up to his face and starts kissing your exposed fingers, one by one on the knuckle.
He then gently rubs his thumb over the cast, his eyes filled with a somber look as he assesses the damage he still feels like he caused. You could tell that’s where his mind was going, so you pull your hand away and reach up to turn his face towards you.
“Hey, stop that,” you whisper, kissing his jaw.
“I feel terrible,” he whispers, his voice cracking as he tries to keep the tears in. You move to sit up and fully cradle his face in your hands.
“Listen to me, baby. I will be okay. A broken wrist will heal, I don’t need surgery to reconstruct anything, just this for six weeks and then a brace. I don’t need physical therapy to learn how to use it again, it will be alright. Things happen. I really don’t want you taking all the blame and the guilt for this when it’s not your fault. Yeah, you got me out on the ice, but it was me who slipped and it was me who tried to catch myself.”
“It wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t let you go,” he mutters, and you realize that there’s no way of getting through to him. So, you roll your eyes and lay back against his chest.
“Okay, Matthew,” you grumble, not really in the mood to fight or argue if he wasn’t going to listen. This seemed to strike Matt in a way that filled him with regret, because then he was sighing and shaking his head.
“You’re right,” he whispers. “I’m…I feel terrible about it, but you are right. It wasn’t all on me, I tried my best to help you, but accidents do happen, and I understand that. It was my idea and that’s why it’s affecting me so bad.”
A few stray tears fall down his cheeks but you are quick to wipe them away.
“I understand, honey. But you wanted to share something you love with me, and I wanted to share it with you as well. If it wasn’t you, and it was my friends trying to get me to go, I would have refused. But I know how important hockey is to you and being on the ice in general. I wanted to try this with you. Remember what I said earlier?”
He nods, recalling back to how you reassured him everything was okay between the two of you, and you had no hard feelings for him regarding this.
“I meant every word before, and I still do. I’ll survive, it’s just a little bump in the road.”
Your second talk of the day seemed to have calmed him down much more, and you were thankful for that. So, you settle back down in his arms, his left hand rubbing up and down your back.
“Can I be the first one to sign your cast?” He asks after a little while of comfortable silence, watching the movie. You giggle and look up at him, wondering if he was being serious or not.
“Go get a sharpie,” you move away from him. Within a minute, he returns from his office with a sharpie he uses to sign memorabilia that the team and other companies send him, plopping down beside you. He carefully holds your cast in his hand and searches around for the perfect spot. He ends up writing right below your knuckles, and horizontal on the section on your forearm.
The forearm spot read “i love you - matty” with a little heart beside it, and the spot underneath your knuckles read “i’m sorry :(”. You laugh at his enthusiastic mood before he hands you the sharpie. You draw some random shapes along it in random spots, just to fill it in a little.
“You know everyone on the team is gonna want to sign it,” Matt says, pulling you back into his chest.
“I’m not sure there’s enough room,” you say, examining the amount of space of the medium-sized cast; it covered your fingers all the way up to the second set of knuckles, and ended ¾ of the way to your elbow. Your thumb was separated to keep it structured as well, but it was quiet comfortable. And an easy way for Matt to hold your hand.
“You could always break another bone to give them more room,” he jokes. And this time, it wasn’t a self-deprecating joke about how he was responsible for the break, you could tell just by the tone of his voice, it was light and airy, hinting at the fact he was trying to lighten the mood.
“Maybe I’ll break my leg skiing, then they’ll have a field day.” Matt can’t contain his laughter, his head thrown back and eyes fluttering shut.
“Oh, please don’t let that happen. One cast is enough for now, baby girl.”
#matthew tkachuk#matthew tkachuk imagines#matthew tkachuk x reader#matthew tkachuk fic#matthew tkachuk imagine#hockey#hockey fanfic#imagines#fanfiction#fanfic
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blaziken will always be special to me cause after I had a car accident, holding onto my tiny blaziken plushie made me feel safe enough to get into a car again, so I'd say Blaziken has already smashed me, in my heart.
YOURE NOT ALLOWED TO MAKE ME CRY ON THE POKÉMON SEX BLOG 🥺
#okay but this gave me feelings#I also got into a big car accident but as an adult and I was driving#I was super scared and injured#this is gonna be a long story sorry#anyway the pain was so bad pain pills weren’t helping#so I asked my mom if she could grab anything stronger from the pharmacy#she said she had two weed gummies in a secret drawer and to take one and just sleep#so I took one and it got rid of the pain but I wanted to stay awake and enjoy the high#and I marathoned all of the Peachsaliva Undertale playthrough#while super stoned and unable to get out of bed#and 4 days after the accident I had to drive again to pick up my brother from work#and I had a panic attack on the road and had to pull over but Undertale helped inspire me to keep going#I had determination lmao#and I kept driving and it got easier every time#sorry for the whole rant#ask#blaziken#pokemon#pkmn#pkmn smash or pass#pokemon smash or pass#smash or pass
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woe another tag vent session be upon ye
#one of the girls in my class looks just like her. oh my god.#like im not being dramatic i literally thought it was her in my peripheral vision.#literally almost burst into tears in the middle of the room lmaooooooo#and then for the rest of the day every time i saw someone with her hair color i just saw her.#this shit sucks fr y'all i have never almost cried in public this much#and then i had to drive to pick up some groceries and fuck.#ive never been an anxious driver. i quite enjoy driving actually.#but i literally almost had a panic attack when i first pulled onto the road. i was so fucking anxious the entire time i was behind the whee#someone came up behind me pretty fast and i legit had to pull over to calm down it was so bad#so uh. not gonna be driving for a while lol. gonna kill myself or someone else doing that.#idk. idk i think this has me pretty messed up and i probably will be for a while. idk#my roommates and i finally decorated our living room and it was . fun. we laughed and made jokes and it was fun#but well. predictably i am feeling guilty over having fun now. which sucks ass from every angle#should i probably maybe make an appointment for therapy ???? probably ???????????#idk. might be good to talk all this out out loud yk. but also i Know i will cry and i dont want to do that.#sigh. anyway.#also predictably i cannot sleep. couldnt last night either.#i might go paint in the living room. i dont know.#anyway if u read this whole rant ily ur earning the veteran's pass to Winter's Breakdown Sessions#winter speaks#personal#grief tag#<- once again if u need to blacklist. will not hold it against anybody i prommy#tw death#tw panic attack
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meant to be
Spencer trying and failing to flirt with you because you are oblivious to his attempts.
spencer reid x reader
i picture this as later seasons spencer maybe sometime around 12-14?
some mature themes mentions of sex at the end so 18+
writing this because i saw something about people who are bad at flirting and that’s literally me. (i hope ppl get the reference w the nickname)
Spencer had tried every day to get your attention romantically. It didn’t work. Nothing did. You were so oblivious to all of his flirting attempts. He figured maybe you had trouble understanding so he worked harder to make you think of him as more than a friend. He tried everything his genius brain could come up with.
He even made up a nickname for you, Bean, because you always had a coffee in your hand, and because he was taller than you.
Today you were getting coffee with him as usual. At your favorite coffee shop and library. You didn’t work at the BAU so you would eventually have to go to your own job so Spencer decided to try again.
Since you lived in the same building, neighbors in the same hall, he picked you up every morning. Drove you to get coffee and you each picked a book for each other and then he drove you to work.
He knocks on your door awaiting anxiously. You come out in your outfit, just a t shirt and jeans. you didn’t have a dress code at your job, you were an author and usually went into a nice office that the publishing company provided to write since you had a hard time focusing in your apartment. Too many distractions.
In Spencer’s car you make small talk as he tries to think of a way to flirt with you. Normally he’d call Morgan but his son was a toddler now so he was busy. He gets so lost in his head he doesn’t realize he just ran a stop sign on accident and almost hit someone.
He hears you yell “Spencer what the fuck!” and slams the brakes. The other car honks and his heart is pounding in his brain. He pulls to the side of the road and stops.
“Spencer. Breathe. It’s ok.” You worry tracing your face at the sight of his extremely fast breathing and you rub his back reassuringly.
“Holy shit.” He barely chokes out. His face is beet red and he looks like he’s about to have a panic attack.
“Switch.” You tell him. He looks at you and feels comforted immediately by your face. “Let’s go, switch.” You get out of the car and switch sides.
‘So much for flirting’ he thinks. Then it hits him. When he picks your book for the day, he’ll give you a romantic story. Something that says ‘I really like you but I’m an idiot so I don’t know how to tell you but i’m not actually an idiot because im technically a genius but my fucked up life has ruined romance for me but i’d love to try it with you if you are okay with that.’
When you take over driving you don’t talk. You just focus on the road. You had even turned the music off. He hopes you’re not upset with him. That thought quickly dissipates when you pull into the parking lot and your face is beaming. You both race to the entrance and he gets there first and opens the door for you. You stick your tongue out at him and he smirks.
You order your usual drinks and he gets himself a breakfast bagel and you get a croissant. He puts the food at a table and you both get up to grab each other a book. You had yours picked since last night, The Godfather. It’s only a little over 400 pages so he’ll probably finish it by lunch time but at least it will be fun for him since it will make him think of you. At least you hope it does.
You have a habit of making funny commentary during movie nights. When you watched ‘The Godfather’ trilogy with Spencer he had laughed so hard he cried.
Meanwhile Spencer is searching rows of books looking for the right one. He moves to poetry but nothing feels right. He feels slightly frustrated so he moves back to classics and picks ‘A Little Princess’ instead. A favorite of yours you had read in elementary school. Not romantic but shows he knows you well.
When he makes his way back to the register to check the book out, you’re already seated munching your croissant. He makes his way to you and hides the book behind his back. You discreetly pull yours out of your bag and hide it the same way.
“1,2,3!” You both count at the same time and then reveal your books. Spencer cracks up when he sees the book you had picked. He had read this before but he enjoyed it because it reminded him of you. You both eat and finish your coffees. You look at each other.
“More?” Spencer asks.
“Obviously.” You answer. You both stand up and order more coffee.
Back in Spencer’s car you open the book and start reading. He’s about to put the key in the ignition when sudden confidence hits him. He doesn’t know if it’s the caffeine but he doesn’t care. He should kiss you right now. He stares at you until you look up.
“You’re going to be late for work if you don’t start that engine up soon Mr. Chauffeur.” You tease him.
He leans closer and puckers his lips slightly. He’s so filled with lust he just can’t wait anymore.
You look at him strangely. Was he trying to kiss you right now? Probably not. Truth was you were always so filled with doubt whenever you liked someone. Especially Spencer. He was just too handsome and sweet and perfect.
He leans in even closer to you and tilts his head. You, however, had gone back to your book and weren’t even looking at him.
“Does this make you uncomfortable” Spencer leans in closer. He closes his eyes and you lean down to reach for something from your bag. He doesn’t feel your soft lips on his and thinks he may have missed your face. He opens his eyes.
“Everything does. I have anxiety Spencer. All the time anywhere day and night. ” You reply while eating a yogurt you had found in your tote.
Spencer pulls away and smacks his forehead. He starts the car and drops you at your work and drives to the BAU feeling defeated. What would it take for you to realize how bad he wants you.
That night he decides to drop by your apartment. You had gotten a ride home from work by a friend tonight. He opens his door and walks the short distance to yours.
When his hand knocks on your door he feels nervous. You open the door and greet him.
“Hi!” You cheer.
“Hey, I was gonna order a pizza. You want?” He lies. He actually wasn’t the biggest fan of pizza. He didn’t eat it too often but it was your favorite food so why not.
“That would be great. I’m starving.” You clutch your belly dramatically. Which makes Spencer laugh.
He picks up the phone, “What would you like on the pizza m’lady.”
You tap your chin and think. “Sausage.” You reply. Spencer thinks of a way to flirt. Kind of.
“How much sausage would you like?” He asks smirking.
“Uhh, 5? I don’t know dude. The normal amount that goes on a pizza?” You answer sarcastically, going to your dvd rack to pick a movie. Spencer sighs. He calls and places the order and helps you pick a movie.
“How about ‘How To Be A Serial Killer?’ That’s a good one. I love Matthew Gray Gubler in this one so much.” You fan girl a little.
“Who the fuck is Matthew Gray Gubler? Also, no, not with my line of work. I need a break from that.” Spencer asks with a hint of jealousy in his voice. You clasp your hand over your heart dramatically.
“Ok, fine. how about a Disney Classic? Sleeping Beauty is my favorite.” You ask. Spencer nods. You put the movie on and grab two root beers from your fridge. Spencer thanks you when you hand him one and you lay a big fluffy blanket over you both. Not far into the movie the pizza arrives and you cheers Spencer with your pizza slice.
After you both eat and are full the movie is still on. You’re starting to feel sleepier by the second. Spencer offers you to lay with him and you take him up on it. He’s basically a giant teddy bear. He’s so warm and comfortable.
“I’ve got a real life sleeping beauty right here.” He whispers to you. You smile with your eyes closed. Too sleepy to open. He gets out from under you, to your dismay. He cleans up the trash from eating. He even washes some dishes you had left sitting. When he comes back, you’re still half awake. He sees you sneak an eye open to look at him and your smile after.
“It seems there’s a fair maiden who has fallen asleep. However can we wake her? What if she sleeps for a hundred years?!” He exclaims. You start giggling softly. He leans closer to observe you.
“I don’t believe it! She’s laughing in her sleep! Must be quite a funny dream. Wonder what it is. Only one way to find out.” He gently leans down and kisses your lips softly. This action puts you in shock and you’re blushing. He starts to pull away because doubts fill his mind. You grab his hair and pull him back in.
You both pull back and he starts to ask you,
“Were you ok with that?”
You cut him off, “Yes.” Then you rip your shirt off. Spencer’s in shock. He follows your lead and starts undressing. He picks you up and carries you to your bedroom. The kiss you’re sharing is deepening by the second.
“Fuck why is it so hot in here.” You complain.
“I can think of a few reasons.” Spencer had been kissing you on your neck sucking the skin softly. He lays you back on the bed. He makes you comfortable. He goes down on you and then fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before.
The next morning you woke up naked next to him flashes of last night replaying. You couldn’t believe it. Spencer was so passionate! You didn’t even imagine he liked you like that.
He groans next to you and turns over. You get up and put on some coffee. When you come back into the bedroom he’s awake and looking for you.
“Hey, coffee’s ready.” You lean over and kiss him. He groans too tired to give an answer. He pulls you into the bed and holds you longer.
With him, this felt so easy and realistic.
Then you realize something.
This was meant to be.
the end ♡
to anyone who read this far: hope u enjoyed reading!! please let me know if u enjoyed! xoxo
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Breathless
Media The Artful Dodger
Character Jack Dawkins
Couple Jack X Reader
Rating Flirty Af
Warning: Medical emergency / Asthma Attack
I woke, as I typically did with a sharp fast gasp. immediately I heard the wheeze in my chest like a pair of old moth-eaten bellows. I sighed and turned to my bedstand opening the little rosewood box and hearing the gentle tune of the music box inside plaid as soon as I opened it I grabbed one of the prerolled cigarettes shutting the box again and saw the candle on my bedside table still burning so I set the tip in the flame until it began to smoulder so I laid down on my back slowly but surely taking a deep inhale and blowing the resulting smoke across my ceiling. It fixed it as much as it ever did so I finished up and set the end in my little metal box with many others.
"There's my sweet girl!" My father gleamed as he entered my bedroom with a wide smile
"Good Morning Father," I smiled sitting up in my bed
"It is a fantastic morning, A perfect morning for our party!" He cheered going to open my curtains to let in the sunshine
I smiled as much as I could force, I knew this was important to him and I wanted only to be supportive.
"I have a gift for you" He smiled tapping my nose playfully He clicked his fingers towards the door and the maid scurried in with a large box in hand, he took the box from her and set it on the bed opening the box up pulling out from the tissue and ribbon a sweet expensive new dress.
It was beautiful, A long off-the-shoulder dress of a sweet fabric a light pale pink with vertical strips of purple, and white lace at its hem, neckline and lace elbow-length sleeves with a black ribbon at its waist. It was utterly beautiful and would not have been cheap for my father to buy. but I began to panic as I looked at it seeing the ribbon and how small it was.
I knew my father, he meant well but he always did this and always it made me fearful.
But I forced a smile "Thank you Father" I said giving his cheek a kiss
"You're welcome, Now come along guests begin to arrive soon" He said rushing off to make preparations.
I sighed climbing from my bed, I went and had a nice hot bath laying in the warm water for longer than I should just because it seemed to soothe my chest but I soon climbed out and went to my window in my towel looking out to the gardens.
My father was a very wealthy businessman in port with a lot of dealings coming and going in shipping, of course, our house was lustrous and grand second only to the governors only a few miles up the road, but the governor could not hold a candle to my father's gardens, well known in the area and beyond for the grandiose and beauty of the many exotic flowers and plants from all over the world, He took great pride in the garden and this combined with his utter love fort entertaining. Meant we had an awful lot of garden parties.
Today was no exception my father was hosting a garden party and had invited everyone who could be imagined. He adored parties being an utter social butterfly, I however was more of an.... antisocial bookworm not much wanting to go but knowing word would spread if I didn't attend my father's own parties. It didn't much help my looming age knowing at the back of my mind certain men had been invited not due to my father really wanting them at the party but my father realizing they could be a good match for me so invited them in the hope one would catch my interest. But I know I am a very lucky girl, Many fathers would be insisting by now or would have wedded their daughter off for a business deal. But My father was a decent man and had always promised me I could choose my husband, that I could marry for love no matter who it would be. He felt he couldn't deny me what he and my mother had.
I went to my mirror and began to dress, I pulled my white stockings up to my thighs adjusting them so the little lilac bows would sit forward, I pulled my long cotton underdress over my body tugging it down as far as it would go, by then my maid arrived and I gulped as she picked up my cream corset. I simply watched the mirror doing my best to not panic as she wrapped it around me and began to lace the back, I did my best to keep my breaths slow and steady but that wasn't exactly easy until finally she finished with the back, she pinned the ribbons in place and turned me to face her so she could pull the ribbons to the front to lace it again leaving me squeezed as much as possible
"How much more?" I gasped already feeling breathless
"Not much more Miss." she said "Pencil thin is the London style miss" She reassured
"I am not a pencil. I am a lady." I argued half of me was joking the other half was serious.
Finally, she tied the last bow and removed the pin in the back as there was now no give in the ribbon at all, she took my crinoline the large wicker bird cage-looking thing that always made me smile a little tieing it simply around my waist and she helped me to slip on my dress, it was beautiful and I did feel very pretty even if again the lacing began as she all but sewed me into the dress ensuring it would be as close to me as possible. Not being helped by my father's purchase choices.
"Alright miss?" she asked as she finished the last bow
"Yes. Thank you" I lied, finally she helped me into my shoes and left to attend the party. "Women in London must have learnt not to need to breathe" I sighed I sat at my vanity and did what little make-up I bothered with before finally taking my hair from the tight braid I had done last night allowing it to now be in sweet curls. Once done I looked out to the window again seeing people had already gathered for the party so I grabbed my lace fan and my parasol and headed down to the gardens.
"Ahhh My goodness an angel!" My father joked as he saw me "You look beautiful" He smiled
"Thank you Father" I smiled
"Go on then, Mingle I'll check in on you later," He told me ushering me deeper into the party, I did my rounds parasol in hand often batting my fan to try and get some air down my throat doing my best to greet and be pleasant with people.
As I made the rounds I took note of those who were here already spotting a few men my father would have invited purely in the hopes of grabbing my attention but as I walked to a less populated area of the garden I took a seat for a moment on the stone bench I spotted a similar soul.
He stood by one of the statues away from the main business of the party, dressed in his usual way but cleaned up a little better, he seemed awkward unsure why he was here, out of place in this bussle. I felt for him of course and for a moment even I wasn't sure why he was here. But then I recalled seeing Dr Sneed on my walk around the party and I know how my father thinks, my father would have invited Dr Sneed because he is his doctor and thus not inviting his own doctor to his party would be rude, and of course then in my fathers mind he must also invite Dr Dawkins for if he invited Sneed and Not Dawkins that too would have been rude. Honestly, I'm surprised he took up the invitation. For a moment we caught eyes and he offered me a small smile so I did my best to do so back.
“You alright my sweet?’ my father asked as he approached sitting beside me
“Yes, just wanted a moment from all the excitement” I smiled
‘ahh well come along we are to begin the walk” he smiled to me taking my hand and soon enough the walk began, this was typical of every party my father would lead a walk around the gardens explaining almost every flower and plant giving a tour to the guests of course most ate it up but I slowly but surely slinked away until I was at the very back of the walk where I again found Dr Dawkins.
“Good day doctor”
“Good day miss y/l/n, does your father always do this?’
“Yes” I chuckled moving my parasol slightly higher as to protect him too
“AHH thank you” he smiled moving a little closer to be under the protection of the lace from the blistering sun
“Quite alright” I answered “what brings you to the party?”
“Your father invited me. Wasn't going to bother but something to do I suppose’ he chuckled
“I guess. I rather find it all tedious”
“well we agree on some things’ he chuckled “I have to admit though your dress is utterly stunning”
“Thank you doctor’ I blushed a little but had to fan myself quickly as I felt slightly breathless from the walking
“Ohh don't worry pleatenties of the party you can just call me jack” he smiled
“ohh that's very sweet, thank you jack’ I smiled “then y/n I insist”
“Why thank you, My god is he going to take us past every plant?” He whispered
“That he is” I smiled
“Any particular reason?’
‘its his pride. He adores his garden above all else?”
“Even you?’
“I don't know, I should hope not but I wouldn't be surprised’
“Why? Why would be focus so much on his garden and not his daughter?”
“He promised my other that her beloved garden would always bloom, she died only a few days later” I explained
“Ohh forgive me y/n I-”
“It's alright, he can be… overboard at times” I said doing my best to slow and catch my breath
“Are you alright?’ he asked
“Yes forgive me-”
“No no it's alright, are you sure? You seem lost for breath?’ he said carefully taking my arm
“I'm fine” I answered as I gasped trying hard not to wheeze or cry anything that might draw attention to myself he seemed panicked I tried again and gasp but it just wasn't working and I almost went over
“Whoa. I'm taking you inside’ he said quickly putting an arm around me and taking me quickly back to the house I dropped my parasol and fan as soon as I got in the door trying desperately to get my breath in “which way to your room?”
“This way” I gasped now beginning to cough and wheeze loudly taking his hand and leading him to my room as soon as I was inside I leant on my ottoman trying desperately to get some air into my lungs as he shut the door and came over
“Are you short of breath?”
“Yes” I gasped surely that was obvious
“try to breathe slow for me if you can” he asked and I did my best but that only made me wheeze louder
“Take off your dress.” He said
“I beg your pardon Dr Dawkins!’ I argued
“I need to examine you take off your dress” he said
“I cannot” I answered between gasps
“I'm a doctor I won't look y/n but I need to exmaine you” he said
“No I cannot. My maid she-”
“She's sewn you into the dress?” he asked and I nodded “alright” he said slipping off his jacket and grabbing a small knife from his pocket “I'll be as careful as I can” he said slowly using the blade to cut where my dress had been stitched by my maid until finally it released I quickly stepped away and pushed the dress off me as well as my crinoline immediately I felt a little better as I looked forward letting out slow breaths I caught sight of jack in my mirror he lied to me. He was looking. But I felt still so breathless that I tumbled onto my ottoman ‘whoa whoa! I got you. I got you.” He reassured only just catching me making me sit on the ottoman “I need to remove your corset”
“Doctor!”
“I have to remove it” he said coming to face me starting to unlace my corset ties quickly with his nimble fingers “out of curiosity. How'd your mother die?”
“Respiratory failure” I gasped and he looked up to me seeming panicked
“How old was she?”
“Twenty nine”
“Christ - for - god-” he grunted trying to deal with the knots and loops and ties in my corset until finally he unlaced the front and tried to pull it off but of course it didn't move he looked confused so I moved his hand to my back and he moved behind me seeing of course all the lacing on the back ‘oh you gotta be kidding me!’ he complained “they really didn't want you of this dress.’ he said fighting with the ties before “fuck it!’ he complained grabbing his knife again and cutting though the lacing managing to force the whole corset off me and that helped considerably “there we go.” He said a lift proud of himself “nice and slow let me listen” he said for a moment looking around the room clearly for something to use to listen but “I don't have my tools uhhh okay. Guess we have to do this the old fashioned way” he said sitting on the ottoman with me lifting my underdress up to expose my bare back I glanced in the mirror again and saw his cheeks slightly deeper with red his eyes glancing down from my neck all the way to the ottoman before he moved closer resting his head on my back to press his ear to my skin “nice and slow for me. Just breathe with me In. And out. In and back out” he said and I did my best to breath with him even if I ended up coughing and wheezing as he walked me through a few long breaths “how long have you been like this?” He asked as he pulled back moving so I could see his face letting go of my underdress
“Forever”
“I get the feeling you need to tell me something.” He said
“I'm asthmatic. Have been as long as I can remember.” I answered
“That certainly explains a lot” he said “when did a doctor tell you?”
“I was nine.”
“I take it your mother was too?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, how are you managing it? What do you have to take when you get like this?” He asked
“The box on my bedside table” I told him still struggling he got up and went to the box seeming confused
“What are these?”
“Asthma cigarettes. Prof prescribed them” I answered
“You smoke!’ he argued
“On doctors instructions yes.” I answered
“Are you mad!”
“There not tobacco there thorn apple leaves there meant to help” I said
He sighed begrudgingly bringing one over so I took it and lit it on a candle sitting for a few moments slowly inhaling it all
He brushed the smoke away from his face a moment before rather angrily speaking “he's mad.”
“It helps.”
“So would you sitting not moving for the ten minutes it took you to smoke that” he argued “but that dress wasn't helping in the slightest why on earth did they lace you in that corset so much?”
“It's the style apparently. Plus I needed to”
“Why?”
“...father buys all my dresses two sizes smaller then I am. I have to double lace the corset for a hope of even getting in them
“Why would he do that?”
“He means well. He thinks if he buys all my clothes too small it's… encouraging”
“Encouraging? I hate to ask but when did you last eat anything?”
“...four days ago.”
“Okay, that is also not going to be helping.” He said
“Yeah well you try fitting into a dress with a twenty one inch waist” I pouted
“I think he's trying to kill you.” He joked “you feel a bit better now?”
“Yes. Thank you jack”
“You're welcome. How often do you get attacks like that?”
“once a week or so.”
“Does your father know?”
“Somewhat. I don't always tell him the whole truth”
“Would you be against coming to the hospital?”
“What?”
“I am not confident about leaving you alone tonight. If you agree I'll talk to your father take you to the hospital I'll keep you under observation myself.”
“Why?”
“.... I fear this may be worse then just a simple attack y/n”
“I don't want to worry my father. he's fearful enough as it is”
“Then which would you rather? He be a little worried a stressed as you spend the night in hospital in my care or he comes in here and finds you dead in your bed tomorrow morning because I'm pretty sure which one will upset him more.”
“One night?”
“One night. Under observation.”
“Alright jack”
“Thank you y/n” he smiled giving my hand a kiss “just rest i'll go see your father” he said as he got up and headed out of my room.
Eventually he arrived with my father in tow and the two discussed as my maid packed me some items and my father called us a carriage, I changed into my loosest dress doing my best not to show my father my struggles
“Perhaps Dr sneed would be better he is my doctor he's taken such food care of me” he began
“Dr sneed is very busy he won't have time and what she needs is observations now I have the time to do so”
“Keep me posted won't you?”
“I promise.”
“You'll take care of her doctor?”
“Absolutely, I promise she'll be back right as rain”
“Alright, I'll see you soon sweetheart” he smiled kissing my head before he slowly and tenderly let my hand go giving it to jack, he smiled to me squeezing my hand and leading me slowly to the carriage luckily the party never even noticed but as i sat down my father pulled jack close to him. “Anything happens to her. It's your head.”
“Yes sir” he nodded before climbing into the carriage with me.
#tbs smut#thomasbrodiesangster#tbs imagines#thomas sangster imagine#tbs imagine#thomas brodie sangster imagine#thomas brodie sangster#tbs#thomas sangster#thomas brodie sangster smut#jackdawkins#jack dawkins#jack#thearttfuldodger#the artful dodger#theartfuldogger
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you talk of the pain like it's all alright
well i was too into this to not write part 2 right away, so here! the downside is i have not proofread oops.
warnings: nightmare, kind of a panic attack... worries of self harm, but no actual self harm. angst but more fluff :)
The drive to Alexia's apartment was uncomfortably quiet. You could tell that she was trying not to push you, which was not the norm. It made sense though; your actions this evening had really worried her, and she was at a loss for how to help you.
"Does your hand hurt?" She asked, breaking the silence, but keeping her eyes fixed on the road.
"Only a little," you replied, lying through your teeth. You'd rejected any meds from the physios, and your hand ached, pain pulsing from various areas of your knuckles, highlighting the multiple fractures.
"I'll give you something for it when we get home," she told you.
"No, really, it's fine." You mumbled. Your hand hurt because of your own actions, because you'd been stupid and impulsive. It should hurt. In the back of your mind, you realized how unhealthy this thinking was, but you pushed that thought away.
"If you're in pain, you should take something. Just because you did something dumb doesn't mean you deserve to be in pain," Alexia told you, very gently. You tried to hide your surprise at how accurate she was, completely taken aback by her perceptiveness.
Instead of responding, you turned to face out the window, watching the city pass by. Alexia sighed when you didn't say anything; you were really getting tired of that sigh. It sounded like it was full of disappointment in you, even if that wasn't the intention.
-----
You received what felt like the millionth sigh from Alexia when you walked into her apartment. She asked if you wanted to talk, obviously trying to be casual, but you shook your head, telling her you were tired.
"You can't avoid this forever, y/n."
"I'm just tired, Ale, I'm not trying to avoid anything." If she wasn't so worried, she would have laughed at the blatant lie.
"Fine. We'll talk tomorrow," she said, and you nodded, not yet sure how you were going to get out of that one. She was clearly frustrated with you, and you hated it. You already felt bad that you'd made her worried enough to make you stay with her, and the guilt you felt for not being honest was quickly replacing your resolve to keep everything to yourself.
Alexia pointed you towards the guest room, before disappearing to get you something to sleep in. You sat on the bed, running your hands over the soft comforter. Carefully, you took of your brace, wincing at the sight of your hand. It was swelling, already bruised. You were so frustrated, so defeated. You took a shaky breath, trying to stave off the tears that were rapidly gathering in your eyes.
"Okay, these might be kind of big on you, but they... should work..." Alexia returned, voice growing quieter as she looked at you. You were staring at the ground, eyes welled with tears, cradling your hand to your chest. Your lower lip was trembling, and you were blinking rapidly, trying to pull yourself back together. She hadn't seen you look so vulnerable in a really long time, and she wasn't sure how much you'd allow her to comfort you.
The Catalan placed the pajamas on the bed, before carefully walking over to where you were seated. You sucked in a big breath, prepared for another speech, but none came. Instead, Alexia was pulling you into her, arms wrapping around your shoulders, pressing your head into her stomach. Her thumbs moved rhythmically in circles against your shirt. Abandoning your resolve momentarily, you wrapped your arms around her, pressing your face into her. You clutched at her shirt desperately with your good hand, and she held you tighter.
She ran a hand through your hair, speaking quietly to you. "Everything is going be okay, pequeña, I promise. We're gonna figure it out, whatever it is."
She felt you nod almost imperceptibly against her, and took the small victory. She pecked the top of your head, before pulling back.
"Sleep now, you must be exhausted. And wake me up if you need me." She paired her words with a reassuring smile, waiting for you to nod again, before leaving the room.
You changed, wiping all traces of your small breakdown off your face, before climbing into the bed. You were exhausted, too exhausted to try to stay awake. You hoped you were tired enough to not have any nightmares, but luck hadn't really been on your side recently.
-----
Sure enough, you'd only been asleep for a few hours when your dreams soured. It was a familiar nightmare, one that you had frequently. It consisted of you missing a goal, a game winning goal. The fans screamed at you, your opponents mocked you. Worst of all, your teammates were angry too, your captains and Jona yelling at you for not doing better, for not being better.
In the other room, Alexia woke from a light sleep to the sound of you whimpering. She was out of bed in a second, almost falling in her haste to get to you. Entering the room, she saw you rolling around, tears leaking from your eyes. You were talking through your cries, but she couldn't understand what you were saying.
Crossing the room, she sat on the edge of the bed, placing her hands on your shoulders and shaking. You sat straight up, gasping for air. Your wild eyes found Alexia, and before you knew it, you were throwing yourself into her arms, letting out loud, unrestrained sobs.
"Alright, you're okay. It was just a dream. Slow your breathing down, you're safe, I've got you." You barely registered Alexia's words, just so grateful that it was a dream, that she wasn't really mad at you.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," You cried. You weren't really sure what you were apologizing for, but you couldn't seem to stop.
"Shh, y/n, it's okay. You don't need to be sorry," she told you. She was holding you tightly against her, rocking you back and forth; she wasn't sure why, but it felt right, and it seemed to work. You were calming down.
And as the panic faded, embarrassment took it's place. You pulled yourself out of Alexia's arms, a horrified look on your place.
"No, y/n, it's okay, really, don't-" You cut her off, leaping from the bed and all but sprinting into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind you. You sat against the wall, burying your face in your hands. You could hear Alexia knocking on the door, her panicked voice calling to you, but none of it registered. You were so distraught, so upset that she'd seen you like that. How could you let this happen?
"Y/n, please, please open the door. You don't need to be embarrassed, I'm not mad or upset. I just need to know that you're okay." Alexia was begging, not hearing any response.
Her mind was racing, thinking a million things at once. Whether she could break down the door, what was in there that you could hurt yourself with. She tried everything she could think of to get you to open the door, from pleading to using her stern captain voice, to soothing tones, back to pleading. It had been minutes, and you still hadn't answered. She could hear your ragged breathing, which was some comfort.
She didn't know what to do, how to fix this. Hands shaking, she grabbed her phone, calling the only other person she knew you trusted.
-----
Mapi hadn't expected today to turn out how it had. Not your red card, not your impulsive actions, your total disregard for yourself. She didn't expect the frantic call from Alexia in the middle of the night; Alexia was almost crying, a sign to Mapi that what was going on was bad. More than anything though, she didn't expect Ingrid to take charge the way she did, throwing shoes at her and rushing her to the car.
Ingrid drove fast, hands clenching the steering wheel. Mapi knew Ingrid was an empathetic person, a kind person, but she hadn't expected the Norwegian to join her in this, with this intensity. As Ingrid led her inside Alexia's apartment, determined, Mapi couldn't help but be so incredibly glad that her girlfriend was so perfect.
-----
Noise had faded for you, and all you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears. You needed to breath, you knew that. You also knew you needed to tell Alexia that you were okay, that you weren't going to do anything stupid. You were completely frozen though, all your energy focused on gasping little amounts of oxygen into your body, just enough to keep you conscious.
-----
Alexia was sat against the bathroom door, saying pretty much anything that came into her mind. The sound of you struggling was too painful for her to listen to, and she couldn't allow herself to do nothing. She only felt relief at the sight of Ingrid and Mapi. The three of them, together, could fix this, she was confident.
"What happened?" Mapi asked, flinching at the sound of your desperate breaths through the door. Alexia had been barely comprehensible when she called, and Mapi only really understood that something had happened, and you'd locked yourself in Ale's bathroom. Her and Ingrid took seats against the hallway wall near the door as Alexia responded.
"I think she had a nightmare. I went to wake her up and she was so upset, crying so hard. And I calmed her down but then she was pulling away and running out of the room. The look on her face. God she was so horrified that I'd seen her like that." Alexia's voice cracked as she spoke. "I've been trying to get her to open the door but she either can't hear me or she won't open it."
Mapi clenched her fists, before asking the question they were all thinking. "What's in there?"
Not 6 hours ago, you broken your hand punching a wall. They still weren't sure what your intention was with that, and the thoughts of what you could be doing, a locked door in between you, were terrorizing your friends.
Alexia just shook her head. "I don't know, I can't remember. I thought about breaking down the door, but... I don't want to freak her out any more."
Ingrid looked between her the other girls, the solution clear to her. "Did you try to pick the lock?" She asked. Alexia looked at her blankly.
"I don't know how to do that?" Alexia responded, sounding confused.
"Get me a bobby pin." Ingrid instructed, and Alexia scrambled off to her bedroom, uncharacteristically frantic.
"You... you know how to pick a lock?" Mapi asked, completely surprised. Ingrid seemed like the last person she knew that would have that knowledge. Ingrid was a rule follower.
Ingrid looked at her, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes, Maria. Doesn't everyone?" She remarked.
Mapi looked even more confused. "No?" She said, her response sounding like a question rather than an answer to one. Alexia returned then, thrusting about 8 bobby pins into Ingrid's hands. Again, Ingrid almost rolled her eyes, wondering what kind of fun the teens had in Spain that they didn't learn how to pick locks. She dropped all but one of the bobby pins, turning towards the door.
Alexia and Mapi exchanged looks, and in the time that took, Ingrid had the door clicking open. They all looked in, distressed, letting out simultaneous sighs of relief at the sight of you. You weren't okay by any means, hunched into a ball, hands pressed tight over your eyes. You weren't hurt though, and that's really all that they were concerned about.
The girls paused, unsure what to do now. It hadn't seemed like you'd noticed them enter the bathroom, and they weren't sure what they could do to without startling you. Ingrid, full of surprises today, took the lead, moving to sit next to you, careful not to touch you. The other girls sat too, albeit a little farther away.
You were so in your head, so not aware of anything around you. You knew someone was speaking to you, closer than they were before, but that was it.
"Hey, y/n, can you hear me?" Ingrid said, voice hushed. You gave no indication that you could. "I'm gonna put my hand right next to you. If you can hear me, I want you to touch my hand." Her voice was so soothing, it broke through the fog in your mind.
After a minute, you pulled your good hand away from your face, and shakily reached for her hand. Ingrid kept her's open, palm facing up, until you wrapped your hand around, gripping tightly.
"Good, that's really good, elskling. Can you move your other hand? It looks like it's hurting, honey." You realized Ingrid was right, and unclenched your broken hand, pulling it away from your face with a whimper. They could see your face now, cheeks flushed and eyes puffy. You avoided looking at the other girls, keeping your eyes trained on the ground even as you stretched your legs out, bringing your hand to your chest. You were still holding Ingrid's hand though, which she took to be a good sign.
"I'm gonna get you some ice, pequeña, is that okay?" Alexia asked, voice softer than you'd ever heard it. You nodded mechanically, because your hand really did hurt. Alexia stepped out of the bathroom, and Mapi spoke this time.
"Can you look at me, y/n? Please?" You'd never heard Mapi like that, desperation clear in her voice. You gave in, lifting your head to meet her eyes. Briefly, you wondered when the hell Mapi and Ingrid had arrived, but Mapi spoke before you could ask.
"You don't need to be embarrassed. You didn't do anything wrong, we're not mad at you, not even a little bit. We just want to help, cariño, can you let us do that?" There wasn't much reason to resist anymore, nothing really left to hide.
"Okay." You said quietly, voice raspy from crying. Alexia returned in time to hear your answer, and this time she was sighing out of relief. It was a nice change.
She sat beside you, gently taking your mangled hand in her own, and wrapping it carefully in an ice pack. You grimaced, squeezing Ingrid's hand a little tighter. In response, she moved her thumb up and down the back of your hand. Alexia held the ice pack in place, not really sure what to do now.
"When did you guys get here?" You asked finally, looking towards the couple.
"A bit ago. Ale called us, she wasn't sure how to get you to open the door." You nodded, feeling guilty for worrying them.
"How did you get in?" You wondered.
"Ingrid must have a criminal background she'd hiding from us, because she picked the lock in 2 seconds flat," Alexia responded, voice jokingly exasperated. You looked at Ingrid, shocked.
"Who doesn't know how to pick a lock!" Ingrid said again, looking between the three of you.
"Most people, I'd say. It's okay, amor, I think it's hot that you used to break in places." Mapi joked.
Ingrid glared at her, her response dying in her mouth when you pulled your hand from her grasp and shuffled closer to Alexia, leaning into her. The girls looked at each other, never really having seen you seek comfort out like this. Alexia wrapped an arm around you taking in your exhausted expression.
"How about we go to bed? We can talk in the morning, when you're feeling better." She suggested, and you agreed.
"I promise I'll talk to you guys." You said quietly. Your friends smiled at you. You really didn't want Ingrid and Mapi to leave, but you weren't really sure how to ask for that. Luckily Alexia's mind reading powers seemed to have returned full force.
"You guys wanna crash in the extra bedroom?" She asked. The couple nodded, and you looked confused. Where were you supposed to sleep?
Alexia pulled you to your feet, holding part of your weight up as you were unsteady on your legs. "Cmon, I'm not letting you out of my sight." She said, leading you into her room. The couple peeled off into the extra bedroom, wishing you a goodnight. Alexia pulled you towards her bed. You were so passed arguing, you let her guide you onto the bed, scooting under the covers. She climbed in next to you letting you wriggle into her. She wasn't sure if you were being snuggly because you were exhausted, or emotional, but she didn't care.
For the first time in weeks, she felt like she had an idea of what was going on in your head, and if you needed physical comfort, she was more than happy to provide it.
You felt safe, comforted, even if anxiety still fluttered in your chest at the thought of talking to your friends in the morning. You passed out almost instantly, regardless, and Alexia followed soon after.
-----
part 3 probably tomorrow because i'm obsessed with this
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do i try to drive from cleveland to chicago by myself never having done a long drive ever and also while having driving anxiety LOL
#like taking a several hours longer route because i hate main roads kind of anxiety#bc my partner thinks its dumb for him to fly out here to drive together but im like what if i die -_-#ive had to pull over from a panic attack driving 40 minutes I can't imagine for being that anxious for nine hours straight 😐
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super big congratulations on 4k!! you deserve it <3
i was wondering if you could write a gn! reader x price with the prompt "Hey, it's okay, I got you. You're alright, you're okay." it doesn't matter if it's platonic or romantic; whatever feels best for you!!
Thank you so much and congratulations!
YOU’RE ALIVE (Price x GN!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION
[WARNINGS; Car accident, implied situationship w/ Price, moderate injuries, flashbacks, near panic attack, open ending.]
YOU DON’T REMEMBER the events that lead up to you in a hospital bed, a cast fitted around your arm, a brace on your knee, a bandage around your skull, and only God knows how many stitches and bandages in random assortments. You can’t forget the numeral wires and tubes attached to you, too. Oh, and the ear-bleeding beeping. John sits next to you in a chair—he’s your… friend, of sorts. You aren’t really sure what to call what you two have going on.
You look at him, slumped in the visitors chair he’s pulled up beside your bed, his arms crossed and his legs spread; his neck is bent at an awkward angle and you know it’s going to ache whenever he awakens. John looks quite tired—he’s looked tired and stressed the entire time he’s been in the hospital room with you. Stressing over you, like a worried hu—…. you shouldn’t think about that. Suddenly the ceiling looks far more appealing to stare at, rather than the beautiful gentleman who is willingly staying at your bedside, despite your exhausted attempts to have him get some proper rest.
You glance over at him—envious of how he’s able to sleep right now. Hm. Honestly, you know John would be awake with you if he had the energy. The only reason why you’re awake is your stitches itch, and the only reason why he’s asleep is because you did not wake up for four days after you passed out at the scene of a car accident you were apparently in; an accident you don’t remember too well. You barely even remember what you had for breakfast that morning; cereal of some kind, maybe? Eggs? You don’t know.
“You were on the way to work, love.” You remember John telling you. You remember the tense expression, the firmness of his eyebrows. The frown of his lip, the way he amusingly resembled a quokka in the moment. You were also apparently on the phone with John at the same time, so whatever happened, he heard all of it. The details from your own memory are fuzzy—your doctors concluded your amnesia is temporary, so they gave you the choice of remembering it yourself or having them tell you. You opted in for the first option.
It was coming back to you in bits and pieces. Small moments where you feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, you think you hear glass shattering in the distance; your heart begins to race at different moments. You aren’t sure what to make of it—until now.
“I’m not excited for this meeting.” You whined, your eyes were glued to the road. Your phone is bluetooth connected to your car’s system so you can talk with John and have both of your hands on the wheel. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, honey. Surely it’s just about budgets like last month.” John hums through the speakers of your car. You sigh, turning on your windshield wipers as it’s pouring out, obscuring your vision a bit.
“It’s raining pretty hard, how do the roads look?” He asks, a bit of rustling coming from John’s end. He’s probably reading a book or looking out from the curtains. “I’m driving slower than normal, visibility isn’t the greatest..” You admit, letting out a breath, slowing the car down once again. “..I was sliding a bit, thinking it’s time I get some new wheels.” John hums in agreement. “Definitely. Please be safe, love.” You chuckled glancing around the road, furrowing your eyebrows when the double yellow line seems to fade. “I’m trying my best, Jo—“
You’re suddenly being jostled around violently after a big impact from your front, your seatbelt digging into your skin as something launches your car off to the side. “SHIT—“ You scream, attempting to stop the car, but the rain causes you to slide across the road. Something hits you from the back and you feel you physically feel yourself lift in your seat—and then you’re fading in and out. You wake up with wetness against your face, pain in your ribs, your arm, your skull—
You let out a choked sob as there’s ringing in your ears and your eyes refuse to focus—but you can tell you’re upside down. You see a pair of legs sprinting towards you through your broken side window, and you aren’t really register what’s happening. You blink and the person is try to pry the door open frantically. You still don’t hear them; it’s almost like a silent movie.
The door gives, the flipped car jostling from the force used to pry it open. You blink and fuck—It’s John. His eyes are wide and his jaw is tense, shaky hands. He’s grabbing the sides of your head, forcing you to keep your head still—his lips are moving but you can’t hear him. You sob and you try to reach up to touch him, and he lets you. Your eyes look at your own hand as it’s caked in your own blood, causing you to inhale shakily. This isn’t happening. The pain starts sitting you harder, a pulsing in the side of your head.
“Hey—“ John’s voice suddenly cuts through and you blink, and you’re back in the hospital room. You’re breathing hard and fast, causing your chest to ache more than it already does. His hands are cupping your cheeks like he was in the flipped car, and you let out a panicked sob; your machines make loud beeping noises in retaliation. “Hey, it’s okay, I got you. You’re alright, you’re okay..” John quickly murmurs, his thumbs gently wiping your tears away. “Focus on my voice, okay? You’re alright. You’re in the hospital, love.”
You sniffle and nod, shakily inhaling once again as you try to calm your panicked lungs and struggling heart, your good hand coming up and gently grasping his wrist. “I-I was flipped over—“ You choke out, which John quickly meets with soft shushing and a kiss between your eyebrows. “I know, honey. I know. I got you, you’re safe now.” You nod, choking out another whimper as you lean into his touch—because John’s right. He has you; you’re safe, he’s the one who got to you first. You’re sure you’ll want to ask him how he found you so fast later, but all you want to do right now and feel him and hear him. Because you’re alive.
#crow’s 4k celebration#call of duty#cod#call of duty mwii#cod mw2#modern warfare ii#mw2022#mw2 2022#price x reader#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#price x gn!reader#price x gn reader#john price x gn!reader#captain john price x gn!reader#captain price x gn!reader#john price#captain john price#price cod#price call of duty#price mw2#captain price mw2#cod price#captain price#cod mw
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anything but you - rafe cameron
summary: when sarah and the pogues steal barry's money, he concocts a plan to take the one thing the oldest cameron loves most to ensure he gets repaid in full
word count: 8.8k
warnings: canon-level violence, kidnapping, guns, anxiety/panic attacks followed by the sweetest fluff ever.
a/n: I had originally planned to split this up, but honestly love it as one big fic! hope y'all enjoy! Xx
Barry limped up to his front door, clutching his side as he struggled to breath through his nose, which was clogged with blood. The door hung open and as he shuffled inside he reached for the piece he kept taped under the kitchen table, grasping it firmly and pointing it around each corner as he made his way into his bedroom. He looked around at his clothes and belongings scattered everywhere before making his way frantically to the closet. His duffle bag was gone. As was the $25,000 in it.
His blood was boiling, partially at the thought of the pogues rummaging around in his shit, stealing his money, and partially at the cocaine that was pulsing through his veins, letting his mind run wild. He knew these kids, Maybank, Routledge, but he cracked a smile thinking about little Sarah Cameron. Rafe's sister. Country Club. And suddenly he knew just how he was going to get his money back.
Several Months Ago
Rafe tossed a large wad of cash down on the table in front of Barry. "We're square" he said, his tone serious.
"Damn, Country Club" Barry said, picking it up greedily and flipping through the bills. "I'll give it to you, you did come through. How much do you want for this weekend?" he asked, reaching over to the drawer in his side table.
Rafe's fingers twitched at his side before they came up to wipe his nose as he sniffled, a nervous tick. "I'm good, Barry, I'm done." His head was pounding, his mouth was dry and he was exhausted. He knew release could be found in the little baggy in Barry's fingers, the sugared crystals tempting him, calling him. He squeezed his eyes shut, driving the heels of his palms into them, forcibly rewiring his brain to focus on the only thing sweeter than the euphoria in front of him: you.
It was like a movie in his brain, he saw you running into the ocean before turning around and reaching out for him, pulling him into the waves with you as your laughter rang out. He saw your head resting on his lap, lingering between awake and asleep as he ran his fingers gently through your hair, eliciting the sweetest smile on your lips. And your lips the feeling of them dancing over his, your arms wrapped around him, the way you looked at him like he hung the damn moon when in reality he was a screwed-up cokehead. He promised you he was done, promised you he would quit and it was a promise he was fighting against every urge in his body to keep.
"We're square, man. I'm done" he said again as he released his hands and made his way quickly out of the trailer.
You had just finished your afternoon of babysitting and hopped into your jeep. You were going to run home to shower and change before meeting up with Rafe and your friends. You checked your phone to see a few missed texts from Rafe.
You smiled, shifting your car onto the road, winding down the narrow streets along the beach before calling Rafe via your Bluetooth. The phone began to ring just as you heard the sound of dirt bikes kick up behind you. Ring. Thinking it was Topper and Rafe, you slowed down before realizing that it wasn't them, and wasn't their bikes. Your heart began to race and you could feel your hands clamming up on the steering wheel as one of the drivers pulled alongside you. Ring. You tried to steer him off the road when you saw him reach into his jacket and pull out a gun. You screamed, squeezing your eyes shut as you heard a shot ring out and your car involuntarily skidded to the side of the road. You let go of the steering wheel, feeling all over your body. You felt okay? That's when you heard air hissing angrily from your front tire as your car sagged to one side. He had shot your tire. Ring. Your phone was still connected and trying to reach Rafe. You frantically unbuckled your seatbelt as the two men pulled up next to your door. You grabbed your phone, hands shaking and tears pooling in your eyes "Rafe RAFE please pick up" you cried to the void ringtone. They ripped your car door open, yanking you onto the street as your phone fell from your hands and into the grass, bouncing beneath the car.
"What do you want from me?" you cried, punching and kicking furiously, you weren't going to go down without a fight. Strong hands circled you from behind, pinning your arms to your chest as the other man began tying your hands in front of you tightly with a piece of rope. Its frays burned against your wrist, instantly agitating your skin.
"HELP!" you cried before a large hand covered your mouth.
"You've got to shut her up" the one man said to the other.
He pulled a bandana out of the back of his shorts and shoved it in your mouth. It tasted like sweat and dirt and the feeling of it on your tongue and the roof of your mouth made you gag as you continued to cry, each of you too preoccupied to hear your phone...
"Yo this is Rafe, leave a message"
You continued crying and squirming as your captor put you on his bike and then settled behind you, nuzzling into your hair and bringing an arm around your midsection. He smelled like body odor and the feeling of his sweaty body pressed against yours made you cry even louder, muffled by the bandana.
The other man closed your car door, locked it and took the keys. To anyone else it would look like a car parked on the side of the road. They revved their engines and kicked off, dust clouding your eyes.
You had spent your whole life on Kildare Island and had never once been to this part of town. No one will ever find me here is all you could think as the homes got further and further apart and gave way to overgrown marshland spotted with trailers. They pulled into the makeshift driveway of a decrepit trailer with a screen door hanging off its hinges. Your captor pulled you roughly off the bike and inside. It was dim and musky and stank of mildew and stale beer. The floor and countertops were littered with beer cans, takeout boxes and drug paraphernalia. Or, so you thought, you had never so much as smoked a cigarette in your whole life. They pushed you roughly into the back of the trailer in a dingy bedroom covered with lude posters of naked women and dirty clothing. The shorter of the two men shoved you to the floor before ripping the bandana out of your mouth. You sucked in a deep breath and coughed, your mouth dry and sore.
"You know who I am, Mrs. Country Club?" he said, grinning at you, a gold tooth gleaming in his mouth.
You took a moment to look at him, his face, his clothing. You had never seen this man in your life. You shook your head, your eyes filling with tears again.
"'Course you don't. No, your boy wouldn't tell you about me, would he? This is a dirty little secret he wants to keep all to hisself" he said as he gestured around the trailer.
"His family owes me money" he said, his demeanor shifting back to anger, "and you're going to help me make sure they pay me every last dollar.” He laughed to himself as he walked out of the room, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him.
The plan was underway and Barry was ready to light the match that would ignite the fire. Thankfully, he knew exactly where to find Country Club on a day like today: dicking off with his friends at the yacht club, spending his daddy's money on overpriced beer. Not working, just pissing away money on booze, boats, bikes and cars, walking around like he owned the damn island.
"Rafe Cameron!" he called, "get over here!" Rafe came sprinting out to him, clearly embarrassed that his dirtbag friend was addressing him in public, addressing him on this side of the island, the two sides of his life colliding.
"What are you doing, man? You good?" Rafe asked, quickly grabbing Barry by the shoulders and leading him away from prying eyes, though Topper trailed closely behind them.
"Nah, I ain't good man. Why is your whole family thinkin' I'm just some bitch that they can shit on, man? First I gotta deal with your dad comin' in and breakin' in and kneecappin' me in my house-"
"You got your money" Rafe said quickly, interrupting him.
"That aint the point, man!" Barry continued, raising his voice, "I'm asking you what am I? Am I just some lil' bitch? Is that what your family looks at me like?"
"No, no!" Rafe replied.
"No? No? Okay, so then why is your little sister and her little surf rat friends runnin' around stealing 25k out of my house? Can you tell me that?"
"My little sister robbed you?" Rafe said in disbelief.
"Yeah, Sarah robbed me. That's why I'm here."
"She won't pick a dollar up off the street, man, what are you talking about?"
"Do I look dumb to you? You think I don't understand what's goin' on here? Cause I'm tellin' you right now you better sort this out with your sister or else I am. 'Cause I want my money."
"Listen, I don't know what you're talking about."
"You don't know what I'm talking about?"
"Enlighten me.”
"Enlighten you? So the Pogues are all around Outer Banks stealin' shit out of everybody's house and you got no idea what I'm talkin' about? Your sisters involved in it!"
"Sarah Cameron, home invader?" Rafe said. "Do you know how stupid?a—“ but before he could finish his sentence Barry shoved him roughly.
"How many times I gotta deal witchu!?" Barry shouted angrily. "That's 25k! Sort this shit out with your sister!"
"Alright! Alright!" Rafe said, holding up a hand in defeat.
"I'mma get my money. Don't forget I know you, Country Club" he let the threat hang in the air for a moment before he continued. "Let's just say it would be within your best interest to get me my money. Quickly. Wouldn't want anyone to get hurt. I'll see you boys around."
"What did you just say to me?" Rafe pressed angrily, following Barry as he walked to his car, yanking the door open and closed before Rafe could reach him. As Rafe pounded on the window, Barry threw it in reverse. "What the fuck are you talking about Barry!" Rafe yelled as the car pulled away.
"Hey," Topper said, coming up to him, trying to put a hand on Rafe's arm before getting shrugged off, "what the hell is going on?"
"I don't know man" Rafe said, the panic clear in his voice as the gears turned in his head. "No no no. This guy is nuts."
"What is it?" Topper asked as Rafe yanked his phone out of his pocket.
"Y/N" Rafe said quietly, reaching to call you when he realized he had a missed call and voicemail from you over an hour ago. He quickly opened it and hit play, putting it on speaker, expecting to hear your voice, his face scrunched in confusion as he tried to make out what was going on.
Ding, ding, ding he could hear the sound of an open car door and muffled voices
"-on the bike man-"
"-'fore someone sees-"
"close the door, take the keys"
Followed by a muffled moan and the sound of someone crying. "Don't cry, just be a good girl for me, we'll take good care of you. You like that?"
The sound of dirt bikes. Then, silence. The voicemail continued for another two minutes but as he fast forwarded through it, all he could hear was a deep, empty silence.
Rafe realized he wasn't breathing. His whole body was shaking. He couldn't hear anything except the roar of blood rushing in his head, in his ears. He could make out the look on Topper's face, he had his hands on his head, a look of panicked fear in his eyes. He grabbed Rafe by the shoulders, shaking him but his voice sounded far away, like he was underwater. "What the fuck, Rafe, what the fuck!" his voice was pitched high with worry. "What was that? Did they take Y/N? What the fuck. You have to call her, man." Rafe's limbs felt disconnected from his body as Topper ripped the phone out of his hands and called your number, pacing back and forth, one hand on his head, the other with the phone pressed to his ear. "She's not picking up dude." Rafe moved without thinking, crossing over to his own dirt bike, pulling his helmet on haphazardly without bothering to strap it in place, kicking it off the stand and gunning it, nearly spinning out in the parking lot amidst a cloud of dust.
He was pushing 60 miles an hour down neighborhood streets. He was hopping onto sidewalks and ripping across pristine lawns and flowerbeds leaving deep tire marks as he made his way to the house where he knew you had spent the day babysitting. He was hyperventilating now and his helmet was fogged with his breath, making him feel like it was closing in on him. No no no was all he could think. Not you. Anything but you. He was about two blocks away when he saw your jeep on the side of the road. He jumped off his bike, tossing it down and yanking off his helmet as he ran up to your car, hands pressed against the glass to see inside. It was empty. Locked. Your purse sat on the front seat. He circled the car, pulling at all the doors and looking in all the windows, looking for any sign of you when he heard a faint buzzing. He crouched down and saw your phone lying in the grass under the car and it was then that he saw the bullet lodged in your front tire. They had shot at you. The sight of it pulled a guttural yell from deep within him. He had been trying to get clean, had been trying to be better. You made him want to be better and he was on the right track, desperately trying to run from his dark and fucked up past. You were his light and now he had put you in danger. He had never hated himself more. Not the time he had made Wheezie cry, not the first time that he met Rose and she looked at him with masked distain, not the thousands of times that Ward yelled at him, told him he was a disappointment. No. This was his new low.
Barry threw open his front door as his phone began to ring. "Right on schedule" he said, grinning, showing the phone to his accomplice. He swiped to pick up the call.
"Country Club-" he started.
"I SWEAR TO GOD BARRY IF YOU HURT HER I WILL KILL YOU. I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? THIS ISN'T A FUCKING GAME. WE WERE SQUARE, YOU GOT YOUR MONEY, WHAT MY SISTER DOES HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ME!"
Rafe was absolutely unhinged. Barry had him right where he wanted him.
"See, that's the problem, Country Club. She's your sister, and your family has a history of tryin' to screw me over. So, this is your problem now. We want $50k. You bring that here and we're all good bro."
"$50,000?" Rafe said incredulously. "What are you talking about? I thought you said they took $25k?"
"Interest, Country Club. For my troubles. Plus, I think she's worth it, don't you? You got yoself a fine lady, my friend."
"Barry, I swear to God-" Rafe said, his voice low, trembling.
"$50k, tonight Country Club. Come alone. You remember my cousin Marco, yeah?"
That was a threat in itself that had Rafe's blood running cold. Marco was Barry's supplier. They had only met once but Rafe could picture the thuggish look of the man he knew served two stints in a maximum security prison. A long scar ran over one eye, his neck, arms and knuckles covered in gang tattoos. It was enough to make Rafe feel like a little boy dealing with the big bad wolf.
Barry continued, "If he sees a cop, he'll shoot her and dump her body in the marsh. 'Gators will have her before you can do anything about it. If you don't come alone, he'll shoot her. If there's anything less that $50k, well, I think you get the point. Tick tock, Country Club." And with that, he hung up the phone.
Rafe called back immediately. Barry sent the call to voicemail. Now they waited.
By the time Rafe got a hold of Sarah it was too late. JJ had already spent every last dollar on a generator, hot tub and booze. It was late in the evening and Rafe was running out of time, too frenetic to expend any energy being angry at the pogues. He had to focus on you. How was he going to come up with $50,000? He refused to go to his father again to fix his mess.
He climbed into his truck and gunned it. He had gotten his truck as a 16th birthday present. He vividly remembered his dad surprising him with it as it sat in the driveway at Tanneyhill, a big blue bow on the hood of the car. His dad had smiled and clapped him on the back and they had driven around the block together, laughing and listening to music. It was one of his favorite memories. He remembered driving his truck to pick you up for your first date, he had been so nervous on the way to your house his hands were slick on the steering wheel and he had to keep wiping them on his shorts. You wore a stunning white dress and he could barely keep his jaw off the ground as held the truck door open for you, helping you into his front seat, the vision of you riding shotgun too perfect words.
It didn't matter now.
He pulled into the car dealership with 15 minutes to spare until closing and raced inside. The owner used to be his little league coach and he prayed the whole way here he would be able to negotiate a fair deal.
"Mr. Bennett!" he said, catching the man as he was closing up his office for the day, "I'd like to sell you my truck. Please" he said, trying to hide the urgency in his voice and failing miserably.
"Rafe! It's good to see you. We're closing up for the day, why don't you come back tomorrow? I'd love to take a look at it, and I can let you know what we can do?"
"I'm sorry, sir, it's urgent. I-I need the cash... and I need it now."
Mr. Bennett took in Rafe's mussed hair, the sweat stains on his t-shirt and his labored breath.
"Son, is everything alright? Does your father know you're here?"
"Yes, he, uh, sent me actually. He asked me to do this for him. Very important. It's very important that I do this for him, please."
Mr. Bennett remembered vividly how hard Rafe had vied for his father's attention and approval throughout his childhood. Maybe he could help him out.
"Alright, let's take a look."
Mr. Bennett circled the car agonizingly slowly, lifting the hood, opening each door. "It's in good condition, you've taken good care of it. I can offer you $35,000."
"OK - great - perfect" Rafe said, shooting Topper a text to come pick him up while eagerly ushering Mr. Bennett inside, haphazardly signing away the title to one of his most prized possessions.
You were huddled on the floor, your arms numb from being tied in the same position for almost 5 hours. Your wrists were rubbed raw and bleeding in some places. You sniffled quietly, run dry of tears from exhaustion and dehydration. You knew Rafe had struggled with a drug addiction, but you had never seen this side of it. The squalor, the desperation, the filth of where he would go to feed the beast inside of him. It scared you. Like the man had said, this was Rafe's dirty secret and the idea of that roiled your stomach, breaking your heart.
You saw how committed he had been to staying on the straight and narrow. It hadn't been easy for him, but day by day you had seen the life come back into his eyes. He was able to focus and manage his anxiety and his anger. After a month it felt like he was fully present with you, mind, body and soul and you had both been submerged in that feeling with one another, like you were falling in love again for the first time. He was a sweet boy at his core and that sweet center was able to shine when it wasn't ensnared by his addiction. He would leave flowers on the hood of your jeep to surprise you, tuck love notes into your drawers when you weren't looking to be found days later, knowing they would make you smile. Whenever you were out in public, his hands were on you, somehow, resting on your thigh, tucked in the back pocket of your shorts, resting on your lower back or more often than not tangled with your own. He was constantly stealing kisses, on the cheek, on the forehead, on your nose and when any opportunity presented itself, firmly against your lips, in the bathroom hallway at the Island Club, in your kitchen when your parents sat one room away, in his bedroom, tangled up in his sheets, he couldn't get enough of you. You were clinging to that image of him, fighting the urge to picture him here, doing drugs, when you heard voices pick up outside the door.
"It's 10:00 man, you said he'd be here. Where's your boy?"
"He'll be here, man, just relax, take a bump."
Marco leaned over the coffee table, sorting a line of cocaine before inhaling it aggressively and throwing his head back to rest on the couch, the drug rushing to his brain.
"Maybe he needs a little motivation to pick up the pace?" He stood up quickly, jittery from his high and pushed his way towards the back bedroom.
The door flew open, the light from the living room nearly blinding you in the dark as he yanked you harshly to your feet. "Come here, sweet thing, don't you want to smile for me, huh? Smile sweet for your boyfriend baby girl, go ahead." He held you tight to his chest, one arm wrapped around your neck, forcing your head up, the other resting uncomfortably against your ribcage as Barry snapped a photo. You wiggled, uncomfortable in his grasp, disgusted by the feeling of his hands on your body. "Aww, you wanna fight me again, huh? That's okay, I like a fighter, I like it a little rough" he taunted. You wiggled harder, willing this to be a dream that you could wake up from as he pulled you closer, his face pressed against yours, his disgusting breath hot on your cheek. You moved without thinking, a survival instinct, doing anything you could to get out of his grasp as you stomped your heel heavily onto his foot. He cried out in shock and pain before grabbing you, turning you to face him and slapping you hard across the face. You fell to the floor, the skin on your flesh burning. You could taste blood on your lip.
"What the fuck are you doing, man!?" Barry yelled.
"Someone's got to do somethin’ here! Where is my money!?"
"Come on" Barry hauled you up by your arm and at least had the decency to look sorry before throwing you back in the bedroom and locking the door.
Rafe slid into Topper's truck, talking animatedly on the phone and motioning for him to drive, "Pawn shop on Meeting Street, drive, go Top!" Topper sped off as Rafe returned to his call.
"Yes, Kelc, $5k and you can have the bike, do we have a deal?" He paused, listening to the other end. "Do you have cash? Can you meet me at the pawn shop on Meeting Street?" A pause. "What? No. Right fucking now. Meet me right fucking now, don't be a dollar short" he said, hanging up phone.
"Rafe, what the hell is going on man" Topper asked.
"Just drive, Top.”
"What's wrong with your truck?" he asked, motioning to the dealership in the rearview mirror.
"I sold it.”
"You what!? Why? You love that truck."
"Please, just drive.”
"Did you just sell Kelce your bike? Is this about money? Are they ransoming her? Oh my god, Rafe. We need to call the police. My grandfather's a judge" he said, reaching for his phone, "I'll call him, we can have this sorted out.”
Rafe grabbed Topper's wrist hard enough for him to drop the phone. "No fucking cops.”
"Rafe-" Topper tried.
"They will kill her Topper" he said, his voice stone serious. "They will shoot her and they will throw her body in the marsh and we will never see her again. These guys do not fucking mess around and I'm not taking any chances."
Topper pulled his car into the pawn shop parking lot and Rafe was out of the front seat before Topper came to a full stop. He ran inside. Topper could see him begin to wedge his Cameron family signet ring off his finger. For as long as he had known Rafe he had never seen him without it. It was extremely valuable and meaningful to him and he couldn't believe he'd be parting with it. From the look in the woman's eyes across the counter from Rafe, it didn't look like she could believe it either. She held it up to the light, weighed it and examined it closely. She said something to him and he began arguing with her. Clearly, he didn't think she was offering him a fair price. They haggled for a moment and eventually she looked resolute. Her final offer. Rafe looked destroyed as he hunched over the counter, his head in his hands before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box and slid it over to her like he was giving her the last piece of food on a deserted island. Resigned, depleted.
She opened the box, eyeing the contents closely, eyeing him closely and closed it, sliding it back to him. He pushed it back to her aggressively. Though taken aback, she carried the box into a back room and disappeared. She came back with a man dressed in a suit, clearly a manager of some sort. They talked for several minutes before shaking hands. They disappeared again and returned with a large envelope. Rafe took it, quickly signed a few pieces of paper and began to walk out to the car just as Kelce was pulling in. He ran over to him, accepting another wad of cash before getting back into the car.
"Top, I need you to drive-" he was cut off by his phone chiming. He pulled it quickly out of his pocket and slid open the text from Barry. Tick tock Country Club it read with a picture. His heart dropped into his stomach at the sight of you, your arms bound in front of you. You looked filthy, your normally perfect hair was tangled, your eyes were scrunched in discomfort, your eyeliner smudged and mascara running down your cheeks. Barry's cousin was pressed against you, his cheek on your cheek, his hands on your ribcage, dangerously close to your breasts.
"No, no, no, no, no" he said repeatedly, the only word his brain could conjure at the sight of you. He felt physically sick and he started to shake, shoving the heel of his hands into his eyes and rocking back and forth.
Topper recognized all the signs of one of Rafe's panic attacks but had never seen one this bad. He didn't know what to do. "H-Hey come on, man, it's going to be ok, she's going to be ok. Do you have the money? Let's go. Let's go get her."
"Y-you n-need t-to drive to the f-fucking cut" Rafe eeked out, barely understandable.
"What?" Topper asked.
"DRIVE TO THE CUT, TOPPER!" he roared.
"Yes, got it, driving" he said, throwing the car into gear.
Rafe pulled out his phone, quickly typing a response.
He threw his phone down on the floor, cracking the screen.
You heard a phone trill.
"You hear that, princess? Country Club is comin’ to get your ass. I told you you was our golden ticket." You heard them laugh before they turned up the music and cracked open beers.
You sat up from where you were laying on the floor. Rafe was coming here? To get you? You wiped at your eyes and gingerly touched your lip, wincing at the swollen tenderness. You couldn't imagine how terrible you looked right now. You also couldn't imagine why you were thinking about how you looked at a time like this. Your limbs ached but you tried your best to maneuver into a sitting position as your mind tried to work out what was happening. Rafe was coming here. Was he coming by himself? He would be outnumbered. What would stop them from taking the money and killing you both anyway? These were two coked out drug dealers, there was no way to know how this was going to play out and they clearly had the upper hand. You began to feel around the floor in front of you. You wanted to gag at the feeling of running your hands through the shag carpeting, sifting through dirty boxers, women's underwear and food containers. You needed to find something that could help. You weren't going to let Rafe face this alone. You reached under the bed, feeling a lot of dust and empty space until you hit a cool metal container. You paused, straining your ears to ensure the men were both preoccupied as you pulled it towards you. It was small, maybe a foot wide. As you opened it, you found a wad of cash, several pill bottles and a small gun. Bingo. You had gone to the gun range a handful of times with your dad, you knew how to see if it was loaded. It was. You knew how to check the safety before sliding it into the front of your jean shorts, the cool metal resting against your skin. Your shirt barely covered it. It would be risky, it would be risking everything, but you had to do it.
"Pull over here" Rafe instructed.
"Here?" Topper asked. They were squarely in the middle of nowhere, deep in the marshes at the far side of the cut. The only light was coming from the dim porch light of a trailer 50 feet back from the dirt road.
"Yes, park here. Cut off the engine. Keep your phone on you. Don't follow me, Top. I mean it."
"How long should I wait before...?" he let the question linger, unfinished.
Rafe looked up at him and for the first time Topper saw unbridled fear in his best friend's eyes.
"Rafe, man, look, we can still call the police. You don't have to do this by yourself."
"15 minutes" Rafe replied, ignoring him at first. "If you don't see her in 15 minutes you can call the police. And, yes, I do have to do this. It's my fault she's in this mess, I'm going to get her out of it." He scooped his phone off the floor, wrangled the wad of cash into his pockets and stepped out of the truck, using the flashlight on his phone to jog alone down the street into darkness until Topper couldn't see him anymore.
You heard him. Over the godawful rap music that was playing through tinny speakers outside your locked door, you heard him.
"BARRY! BARRY, GET THE FUCK OUT HERE. BRING HER WITH YOU. LET ME SEE HER RIGHT NOW!"
Your heart squeezed at the sound of his voice, familiar and comforting but full of a rage the depths of which you had never heard before.
The music cut off and you heard shuffling and muffled voices in the living room. Your heart was in your throat. You heard the front door open and close as Barry walked outside and you heard footsteps headed in your direction. You checked the gun in your shorts one more time before the door burst open and he rumbled over to you, pulling you to your feet, through the doorway, through the kitchen and living room to the front door. A sense of relief washed over you. You were free, Rafe was here, everything was going to be okay. Then you saw the gun in his other hand and began to shake.
He shoved you through the front door, hand gripping your upper arm so tightly you could feel a bruise already forming. A few weak lights were scattered around the property buzzing with mosquitoes, making the yard hard to see, but your eyes immediately found Rafe. He had been in a heated discussion until the door flew open and he caught your eye. It was like time ran in slow motion. His skin was slick with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead, his shirt stuck to his skin, his cheeks red and voice hoarse from yelling, but when he saw you he stopped.
"No, no, no, man WHAT DID YOU DO! LOOK AT HER! SHE'S FUCKING BLEEDING! WHAT DID I TELL YOU!" He tried to run towards you and Barry stopped him with both hands on his chest.
"Not so fast, Country Club.”
"No, I need to-" he fidgeted around Barry's grip, "I need to see her" shove "Need to touch her" shove "Need to make sure she's OK" shove "Baby, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, baby, I'm here, I'm here, It's going to be okay." His eyes were fixed solely on you as he fought Barry back, clawing, desperate to reach you.
"That's enough, Country Club, where is the money?"
"I'm not giving you the money until I can see her, I need to make sure she's alright."
"Let me see it."
Rafe reached into his front pocket, pulling forth wads of cash bigger than any you'd seen in your life.
"65k" he said, shaking it in Barry's face, "interest, you know? To make sure you never do anything like this, ever again. Now let me see her."
Barry took a step back and nodded to Marco. Marco tucked the gun into his waistband and untied your hands. As soon as you were free you turned and ran, Rafe meeting you halfway as you slammed into his chest, your arms too weak to do anything but wrap around his middle as you sunk your face into him, crying anew.
"Oh my god" he said, his hands coming around you as he buried his head in your hair. "Thank God. Thank you, God" he repeated. "It’s okay, it's going to be okay.”
You pressed into him further. "Rafe" you whispered, barely audible, "gun, in my shorts, quick-"
"Money, Country Club" Barry said.
You tried to turn around but Rafe held you firmly in place, your head against his chest as he slowly pulled the wad of cash out of his pockets, handing it over your head into Barry's outstretched hands.
"Woooo, would you look at this, Marco? This is what interest looks like right here." They were both transfixed, unraveling the wads of cash. Rafe took the opportunity to slide his hand slowly down your stomach, into the waistband of your shorts as you shivered involuntarily, his hand resting on the gun, shielded by your body against his.
"This is nothin' to you, Country Club" Barry said. "This is just your daddy's money. Money means nothin' to you. Maybe we outta hold onto your lady here and see what another day buys us?"
A gun cocked behind you and you both froze. You felt Rafe's fingers work around the gun, clicking off the safety.
"Barry. We're square man" he said calmly despite the feeling of his heart thundering in his chest as he stared down the barrel of the gun in Marco's hand. "I'm going to take my girlfriend and we're going to walk away now, and you're going to let us go. And on top of the extra $15k I gave you, we won't tell anyone about the felony kidnapping you just committed."
Barry bristled at that.
"We're the one calling the shots here!" Marco said gruffly, unphased as he pointed the gun at the back of your head. Rafe put his hand against your head protectively, pulling you towards him as you squeezed your eyes shut and his hand shot out from between you, brandishing the gun at the two of them as he slowly began to walk backwards, pulling you with him.
"I said, I'm going to take my girlfriend and we're going to walk away now" his voice trembled, with rage, with fear, with both. "Give me a reason, because I will shoot you both where you stand. I'm begging you to give me a reason so I can bury this bullet so far in your heads." He was shaking, his arm crushing you to him as you took each step together.
"It's all good, Country Club" Barry said, one hand raised in surrender, the other on Marco's arm.
Rafe walked with you all the way to the end of the driveway before grabbing your hand and taking off in a sprint. You ran for what felt like miles, your body exhausted, his fingers entwined tightly in yours before you saw the outline of a truck on the side of the road.
Topper saw two figures appear out of the misty darkness, his finger hovering over his phone, ready to call 9-1-1. When he realized who it was, he quickly started the engine, his headlights kicking on, blinding you both as Rafe threw open the back door and helped you in, crawling in beside you.
"Is she okay? Is everything okay?" Topper asked frantically, working to turn the car around while also trying to eye the backseat.
"She's... okay" Rafe replied, panting, as he finally let the gun in his hand drop to the floor of the car. His back was against the window and you were curled up against him, head nuzzled into his neck, one of his hands around your waist, fingers brushing your bare skin where your t-shirt had been rumpled, the other moving to hold your head against his heart. You were shaking and the vibrations against him splintered his heart like a shattered windshield. He pulled you impossibly closer and whispered into your hair the entire ride home, "It's okay, it's going to be okay, I'm sorry baby. God, I'm so sorry."
By the time Topper dropped you both off at Tanneyhill it was nearly morning. He slid out of the driver's seat to give you a hug, holding you gently in his arms, "I'm so happy you're okay Y/N" he said earnestly. The fear and relief evident in his voice. When he let you go, Rafe pulled him into a tight embrace as well and as they let go they exchanged a knowing glance before Topper nodded and pulled away.
Rafe made sure you got food and plenty of water before helping you up the stairs and into his bathroom where he gently peeled off your filthy clothing before running a shower for you. The hot water scorched your wrists and burned against your cut lip but you were so desperate to rid yourself of that trailer that you didn't care. When you were finished, he wrapped you in a warm towel, holding you against him again. He had been looking at you in a way he'd never looked at you before and you struggled to put a name to it until you felt him exhale shakily. It was fear. You had never seen Rafe Cameron afraid in all your life, and now he was looking at you with pure fear, like he was afraid you would disappear in front of his eyes. Wordlessly, he gave you a pair of his sweatpants and one of his t-shirts and sat you on his bed as he gathered a first aid kit. His hands were shaking as he rubbed ointment on your bruised and burned wrists before turning attention to your face, cupping your chin gently in his hands, trying with all his might to avoid eye contact, feigning a deep focus on the cut on your lip. He was doing everything he could to tamp down his emotions. He could count the number of times in his life that he had cried on one hand. It had only been three times. Once, when he had fallen out of a tree and broken his wrist. Once, at his mother's funeral. And once the first time his father had hit him, tears flowing first in surprise, then in pain, then in shame and embarrassment. It wouldn't do any good for you to see him like that now, he told himself. You needed him to be strong, to let you know that you were safe. He pulled your lip gently with his thumb, rubbing something on it before letting it go.
"Rafe" you whispered as he moved to put the first aid kit away. You stood up to follow him.
"You need to lay down, you need to rest" he said, urging you back towards the bed.
"Rafe, I'm okay" you said, trying to meet his eyes as he avoided yours. You reached out, cupping his face in your hands, gently turning it to look at you. "I'm right here, I'm okay, everything is okay thanks to you."
He squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head, the only way he could think to avoid your gaze. The only way to stop himself from breaking. You moved to your tiptoes to wrap your arms around him, nuzzling into him as his arms wrapped slowly around you. Here you were bruised and bloody trying to comfort him. He was such a fuck up. He almost lost you. He was almost the reason you were gone. What did you see in him? His mind was racing and you could feel him tense in your arms.
"Hey, hey it's okay" you said, your body responding to his tension as you nuzzled closer, rubbing circles in his back. "I love you" you said. And he broke, his shoulders shaking as tears flowed freely from his eyes and he pulled you into his body in a crushing grip. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay, Rafe, there's nothing to be sorry for."
"Yes there is!" he said, reluctantly letting you go to look at you incredulously. "If you weren't with me that would have never happened. I put you in that situation!"
"No, Rafe, you had no part in this, no idea what those men were capable of. We can sit here all day and play 'What If'. What if I had left babysitting an hour later, What if Sarah and her friends hadn't taken that money, What if I had driven faster and outrun them, or worse! What if I hadn't found that gun, What if you hadn't come up with that money. Rafe, we can both spend time beating ourselves up or we can be so damn thankful it turned out the way that it did. We're here, together, and that's what matters. I love you, and I wouldn't want to be with anyone else."
He looked down at you, eyes still shining with tears and cracked a small abashed smile. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" he replied. He leaned down to kiss you before stopping and pulling back, eyeing your lip.
"Just kiss me already" you whispered, and he smirked, pressing his lips gently to yours. The feeling of your bodies and your lips pressed together made the world feel like it was put back on its proper axis. Everything that was wrong was right again. Everything was going to be okay. You deepened the kiss, pulling him into you and he lifted you up, laying you down gently on his bed as hovered on top of you, his kisses never faltering as your tongues tangled and he wrapped you in his arms. After a few moments he pulled back, his nose brushing yours. "You need to rest" he said, resigned but firm. He tucked you in and you were overwhelmed with the feeling of his soft sheets and the undeniable scent of him. You were warm and safe and loved and you were asleep before you could feel him kiss your forehead and whisper, "I love you."
E P I L O G U E
You didn't stir again for hours, your limbs heavy with deep sleep. Your back was curled up against Rafe's bare chest, his arms circling around you snuggly. You sighed contentedly, lacing your fingers through his when you noticed his ring was missing. You pried your eyes open and looked down at his one hand, then the other, turning them this way and that. No ring. He stirred into consciousness, nuzzling you and pressing kisses into your hair.
You turned to face him as his eyes fluttered open, a soft smile on his lips until he saw the look of concern on your face.
"S'wrong?" he muttered sleepily.
"Rafe, your ring is gone" you whispered. He flexed his fingers, running his thumb over his bare knuckle reflexively.
"S'fine, baby" he said, pressing a kiss to your lips.
"It's fine?" you said, flabbergasted. You had never seen Rafe without his ring. It was a deep source of pride for him.
"It doesn't matter anymore" he said, trying to change the subject, "why don't we go to the beach today? Just have a chill day. Topper can give us a ride."
You thought about it briefly. "Why does Topper need to drive us? Where is your car?" You didn't recall seeing it in the driveway last night, but then again, last night was a bit of a blur. Rafe's eyes shifted slightly and he started to say something and then stopped himself and instead brought one hand up to rub his eyes. You could tell he was hiding something.
"Rafe" you pressed, "what's going on?"
He sighed heavily. "I don't have my car anymore."
"What happened!?" you said, propping yourself up on your elbow, concerned. His truck was his everything, you knew how much it meant to him, one of the few gifts Ward had ever given him.
He met your eyes and took his time responding, studying your face, his hands cupping it gently, his thumb rubbing your cheek as a small smile began dancing across his lips.
"I sold it."
You were about to launch a cavalcade of questions when the lightbulb went off in your head the ring, the truck, the money. You gasped slightly, your hand coming to cover your mouth.
"Rafe, you didn't!"
"I did" he said, the smile lingering on his lips. He looked... happy? Had he lost his mind? "And my bike" he said. Your eyes were wide with shock "And-" he started, the smile on his face sinking into something more serious as he paused.
"And what?" you said, your heart clenching. That was literally every one of his most valuable possessions. His golf clubs? His watches? You started looking around the room as if you could spot what was missing, did he sell his furniture? What else was possibly left after all of that?
"My mom's ring" he said quietly.
Your heart dropped into your stomach as you sat straight up in bed.
"Rafe" you said, stone serious, your hand clamped over your mouth, a look of horror on your face. "No, oh my God, no."
He sat up next to you, leaning against the headboard. He still had a smile on his face as he peeled your hand away from your mouth to hold both of your hands in his, his gaze meeting yours fiercely. "There isn't anything I wouldn't have given Barry to have you back in my arms safely. I would have given him Tanneyhill if he asked for it. Nothing matters to me more than you do. No truck, no bike, no ring, nothing. You are everything to me. You are priceless. I love you so much... Plus.." he said, pausing slightly, weighing his next words carefully as he met your eyes, "my mom's ring doesn't mean much if the girl I wanted to give it to wasn't here to take it."
Your heart thundered in your chest as the realization of everything that had happened caught up to you. He had sold every last thing he held dear, the only gift his father had ever given him, the only thing he had left from his mom. The weight of his last statement landing heavily "My mom's ring doesn't mean much if the girl I wanted to give it to wasn't here to take it." He wanted to give you his mom's ring? He wanted to propose to you? Your bottom lip quivered as you took a shaky breath.
"R-Rafe what are you saying?"
He had a lopsided grin on his face as he pulled you into his lap to straddle him. The feeling of his body pressed against you sending a warm wave of comfort over you as you took in his blue eyes, glinting at you as you pushed his tousled hair off his forehead, drinking in the face of the boy that would do anything to keep you safe as his hands rested on your hips.
He was quiet for a moment, smiling at you, looking at your face, taking you in before he spoke. "I'm saying that I want you to be my Mrs. Cameron someday. But, I've gotta get you a ring first. I had been keeping my mom's with me in the glove box of my truck for a while now, just in case."
"Just in case?" you asked, laughing sweetly.
"Yeah, just in case I couldn't wait any longer. In case there was a moment..." he paused as he took your left hand in his, looking down at it as he rubbed his thumb over your empty ring finger. "Wish I had it right now, I'd give it to you."
"I don't need a ring, Rafe" you said quietly, and the look you gave him nearly knocked the wind out of him. You were serious, your gaze transfixed on him, unblinking. And he was serious too. What this happening right now? Like this? This wasn't how he planned it in his head, he had devised a plan in meticulous detail, a thousand rose petals, a hundred candles on a moonlit night on the beach... not with him in his boxers and you with a busted lip and bruised wrists. But none of that seemed to matter now. All that mattered is that you were here, that you were safe. He had been so damn close to losing you, he didn't want to waste any more time.
"Marry me?" he asked point blank, serious, but smiling, hopeful.
You nodded slowly, laughing then laugh-crying as you muttered "Yes!"
He pulled you into him, kissing you as one of his hands came to cup your cheek. You could feel his hands shaking as he kissed you with abandon in a way he had never kissed you before, deep and desperate, loving and possessive as he rolled you over onto your back to feel you beneath him, his lips never leaving yours. You had lost count of the number of times you had kissed Rafe Cameron, but there was a weightiness to this kiss that was new. This was forever. His lips were forever, his hands on your body were forever, this feeling, like you were soaring, the pounding in your chest was forever. And for only the fifth time in his life, Rafe Cameron cried. This time, small, happy tears that trickled down his face as his lips captured yours, breaking only slightly to whisper, "I love you, Mrs. Cameron."
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If Adam comes back as a demon and joins the hotel with his own redemption arc, I really want it to involve his sons Cain, Abel, and Seth.
I Headcanon that Adam probably wasn’t a good dad, he probably put a lot of pressure on Cain and Abel which is what gave way to the initial resentment between the two brothers. After Abel was murdered by Cain, and Adam having to banish Cain, all he had left was Seth and he got way too over protective which led to Seth pulling away from Adam.
Even in 10,000 years, Adam couldn’t fix the relationships with his sons. Adam couldn’t talk to Cain because he ended up in Hell due to being Earth’s first murderer, and Abel and Seth who did end up in heaven refuse to talk to him. Abel perpetually leaves Adam on read, and Seth just straight up blocked Adam on every social media platform Heaven has.
It takes one bad day and a lot of strong drinks for a now sinner Adam to drunkenly admit through tears that he was a shitty husband and father and he just wishes he could hit a reset button and repair his family; all the while saying all of this to Charlie.
Cue three days later; Charlie has rented a RV and declaring they’re all going on a road trip! They drive out to the furthest reaches of the Pride Ring where they end up at some secluded farm. It’s then Charlie announces to Adam that this is Cain’s farm and she had made the arrangements for the father and son to reunite and rebuild their relationship!…
Now cue Adam having a full blown panic attack because he is NOT emotionally prepared for this.
#hotel hazbin#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin hotel eve#Hazbin hotel Cain#Hazbin hotel Abel#Hazbin hotel Seth#hazbin hotel headcanon
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Hi love!
Okay so we all know I love your writing, especially for Raphael.
How about a scenario where Tav is in mortal peril and Korilla is NOT around/able to bail them out. Raphael has to do it himself. Well, he doesn't "have" to, but he will.
_________
A/N: MY QUEEN. I will do my best. Think this is the first time I've done a Tav who is DOWN BAD (in more ways than one).
_________
Korilla never failed him.
It made it all the more shocking when the dwarf appeared at his side, stinking of sweat and brimstone. Her robe, ever flattering, was torn at the shoulder, and the slightly sweet, slightly sick, stink of burnt flesh filled the Devil’s Den. He reached out a hand on instinct, stabilizing her swaying form. The deal he’d been brokering fell by the wayside. A sinking feeling settled in his chest, all too familiar. His carefully laid plans might come apart at the seams. He felt invisible hands pulling at his stitches.
“What is the meaning of this?”
Korilla shook her head. “Your project…your mouse.” She winced. “Got in over her pretty head.” His warlock squeezed his wrist, “Raphael, I couldn’t…” She’d failed to protect his asset. “I kept them off her, but…”
The weight, curling, twisting; fate was determined to spite him again. And beneath that, more insidious, a second thought. Rage. Something had dared to touch her; something had maimed his pet.
The cambion bowed to his guests, lips pursed. “My associate here, lovely as she is, shall have to entertain you for a moment. Beg pardon, my dears.”
Raphael snapped his fingers.
_________
Pain blossomed through her side. Tav staggered back a step, bringing her weapon up to intercept the blow. The blade doesn’t break the skin; she managed to stop that much. The impact…she’s less fortunate. Her muscles screamed, something tearing in her shoulder.
She’d been stupid. Stupid and shortsighted…
All she’d wanted was a moment's peace. Tav had slipped from the party’s shared room at the Elfsong, determined to watch the sunset in silence. As dearly as she loved her friends, they could be loud and opinionated. After months on the road, with no privacy or distance, she figured she’d earned that much.
Bhaal’s cultists were waiting. If it’d only been a handful, she could have handled herself. It’d been more, so many more. An inane thought chased through her head as she danced out of the way of another strike: how many changelings were left in Baldur’s Gate? How many Bhaal cultists did Orin have? It seemed excessive.
Dozens. There were dozens of the damned creatures. For every cultist she killed, another three seemed to arise, like some hellish parody of the hydra. Tav was tired. One of them moved behind her, knife flashing in the dying light. Fresh pain as the blade tore through the muscles in her calf. She screamed. No, no, no, she had to keep moving. They couldn’t hobble her; she couldn’t…
“How dare you.”
She barely recognized the voice. She was aware of his heat before anything else; the cambion appeared beside her in a wash of flame, catching her attacker by the throat. Panic flashed across the changeling’s face, the briefest hint of emotion before Raphael’s claws tightened their hold. A warm spray of blood coated her face as he tore its throat free, leaving it choking through the ruin of flesh.
“Insolent creatures! You would touch what is mine?”
They tripped back, almost as one. Tav stared up at her savior, confused, vision swimming. The cambion, red, so red, fire and blood, his right-wing curled around her shoulders. Cherries and sulfur fill her nostrils, too sweet for the night air. Too soft in the face of his fury. Raphael snapped his fingers, and the air around them seemingly combusted. Hellfire consumed her would-be killers. Tendrils of shadow and flame consumed every ounce of flesh and bone, leaving nothing but a black mark on the streets.
She blinked, staring up at him. Raphael’s eyes continued to blaze, his jaw set. He dusted a nonexistent speck of dust from his sleeve, lips curling in a sneer. “Strange, I expected the god of murder to employ hardier thralls.”
Tav swallowed. Her throat burned. “Stealthy.”
“Hmm?”
She tried again, struggling to her feet. Raphael caught her elbow. Tav tried to ignore the press of his claws, itching, so full of potential, and the heat of his skin. It had to be the blood loss. His eyes glowed in the half-light. “Orin isn’t looking for hardy. They just need to be quick enough, quiet enough, to catch their victims off guard.” She frowned. “Tonight, they were.”
“Yes.” The lowness of his voice chased along her nerves like a caress. “Are you bold or stupid, pet? The city wants you dead, and here you are.” He motioned to the darkness surrounding them, the alley nearly bereft of light. "A little mouse, alone in the dark."
She scoffed. “I needed…I wanted a moment to myself. Is that too much to ask?” His gaze flicked to the scorched flagstones, brow arched. Tav shook her head. “Regardless, thank you. It…” she chewed the inside of her cheek. “Thank you. For saving me.”
“I sold myself as such, did I not? A friend and savior?”
Tav smiled. “Truth be told, I didn’t believe you.”
“And you’re more clever for it, sweetling.”
Color flared in her cheeks. He was too close for this. Too close, too sweet-smelling, too handsome, and too much. The air in her lungs felt overheated and stagnant by comparison. The blood loss, undoubtedly. Tav chewed her lower lip. “Did you…Raphael, before the…did you call me yours?”
His eyes narrowed. “Careful, pet.” It’s an answer in itself. Raphael extended his free hand to her. “Come. The devil shall return his erstwhile heroine to her companions.”
“I can make it back on my own.”
The severity of his expression left no room for argument. “No, you’ve lost the benefit of the doubt. I shall leave you safely in your bed. Not before.”
She hated the flare of heat in her belly. Raphael's hand settled at the small of her back, wings curling more closely as he whispered the incantation to return them to her room. Weak as it may be, she wrapped her arms around him.
The devil said nothing. But he bent, pressed nearer. Solid and strong, smelling of cherries and fire. Some part of her wondered what he would do if she kissed him.
Tav was saved from any potential embarrassment. Raphael left her at her bedside, bowing, smirking as if he’d followed the line of her thoughts. The damned creature took her left hand and kissed her knuckles.
And then he was gone in a swirl of fire and ash.
#raphael bg3#bg3 raphael#raphael x tav#asks#my writing#love you friend#hope you like this#raph: i'm protecting my assets#Tav: I want to kiss him on his stupid sexy mouth
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Lucy bronze one where r doesn’t wanna her up for training some fluff. Thanks
I just want to take care of you (Lucy Bronze x reader)
Lucy had promised you she was fine and she said her knee was fine. This was a lie because 4 days after the Chelsea game your girlfriend was in the hospital having surgery.
Before now you trusted her explicitly and for the most part you still do. When it comes to her injury though, you didn’t believe a word that came out of her mouth. You attended every physio appointment and made notes of her progress. You knew what her road to recovery would entail and you knew when she would hopefully get the greenlight.
“Can I join you on your run?” Lucy was moping around the kitchen as you got ready.
“No Lucy, you can’t. You’re on track and I won’t be the reason that changes. I’m meeting Alexia afterwards so I’ll meet you at the training ground” you place a quick kiss on her cheek.
She hated lying to you about her pain and discomfort but she wanted to be the strong powerful person she knew you loved. The reason for the dishonesty was fear and she knew it.
You and Alexia were running a little bit late to training. By the time you get to the pitch, the whole team is already out there. The whole team including Lucy and Frido.
“Love, I know you miss it but you can’t be here. You haven’t been cleared yet”
“I have” Lucy was telling the truth.
“No you haven’t. You aren’t due for clearance until next month”
Lucy grabbed your hand and walked you over to where the physios were speaking to Jona.
“I told you she wouldn’t believe me. Please tell her”
The physios go on to explain how Lucy passed all her tests this morning and that they have cleared her for team training. When you question it they promised that they would keep an eye on her and monitor every move she made.
Training is normally your happy place but not today, today you were filled with worry. You were trying to focus on your own performance but your mind kept straying to Lucy and how she was playing. It was during one counter attack that things got intense. Mapi did a clean tackle and got the ball. Any other day you would praise her but with the speed Lucy was running down the wing, Mapi’s tackle sent her flying.
“Lucy!” You are by her side in seconds “medics!” You begin to panic but Lucy brushes the grass off her knees and stands up as if nothing happened.
“I’m fine, im fine”
There was that word again. Fine. She said that one before.
“Get checked out. If they say you are fine then you can continue”
“Y/N”
“Captains orders!” You snap. It wasn’t a malicious snap but one of concern.
Lucy does in fact get cleared but your head is all over the place so you sit out and watch the team strategically.
Very little is said on the way home and that doesn’t change once you are in your shared apartment.
“Here. Ice it. I’m going for a shower”
“No” Lucy takes the ice off you before pulling you over to the sofa “we are going to talk about what happened today”.
You let out a huff of frustration. You really didn’t want to talk about it, not while you were this worked up. You placed Lucy’s leg on the foot rest and make sure her knee was iced before you started talking.
“You got cleared ahead of schedule. You went down and I panicked. There, end of story”
“There’s more to it than that. You’ve seen me injured before, this time is different”
“Yes, it’s different. Last time you were honest with me. You told me when it got bad and we dealt with it together. This time you lied. You told me you were fine and then you were in the hospital again”
Seeing your girlfriend laying in a hospital bed was never a welcomed sight but this time things felt weird between the two of you.
“It was a small surgery. I didn’t want to worry you”
“Right because look how great that turned out”
“I’ll admit I could have handled it better but I didn’t want you to see me weak”
“Weak? Lucy you are one of the strongest people I know”
“But I wasn’t a few weeks ago. I was hurting and I thought the way for you to still see me as strong was to lie to you” Lucy tried to explain how her mind worked and her reasoning for withholding the truth.
“Let’s get one thing straight. Lying to me is never the answer”
“But—“
“No buts. I don’t like not trusting what you say Lucy. This” you run your hand over her knee and gently stroke her scar “is important and I want you to be honest with me about it. Please please be honest with me Lucy”
“From this moment on I will always tell you the truth, no matter what. Pinky promise” you hold her pinky finger out and waits for you to accept it.
You look at her as if weighing out your options. When you see the look of panic of Lucy’s face you know you’ve waited long enough. You hook your pinkies.
“Now, you said something about a shower” your girlfriend raises her eyebrows playfully.
“How about a bath instead” you suggest.
“Even better”
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HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)
♡ chapter sixteen — doxxing is okay sometimes 💋
The entire drive back to your house, Scaramouche wondered why he was always put into compromising situations. It wasn't the late hour, or the otherwise deserted roads other than the usual few vehicles being dime a dozen.
No...it was that he was chauffeuring the only person he didn't want to be within a ten foot pole radius from. Softly, your laughter was still emitting from your lips as your head lolled back and forth.
His eyebrows knitted together in frustration, grip tightening on the steering wheel. He was annoyed, but knowing this was the quietest that he'll ever see you was more comforting than not being perceived.
Texts from his phone illuminating a section under his arm as his eyes kept flicking back and forth, he knew it was Ei bothering him again. Her poking and prodding the gnawing that he always felt being around her.
Pulling into your driveway, he brought his car in enough to quickly get you out. Tohma quickly headed into eye view to hurry towards the other side of the door. "Thank you so much. I don't know what I'd do if they weren't able to get home."
He sighed in response, turning off the engine. "Is that all?"
"Yeah...(Y/N)?" Tohma paused, his gaze lingered on you. "They're completely out."
"Keen observation." Scaramouche sarcastically quipped.
Tohma looked at the other before hesitantly rounding you up, careful not to jostle you as he helped your limp body out of the car. Your body soon enough became less languid, eyes slowly opening.
You mumbled something unintelligible in response, your words slurred. "Scaramouche," You made out, blinking blearily before you felt a certain rage overcome your body again. "Where is he?!"
Your steps were unsteady as you leaned against Tohma for leverage, but you were also thrashing to turn and find the person you were screaming at through Twitter earlier.
"(Y/N)...take it easy-!" His words were drowned out by your fervent rage, your gaze was wild as you scanned the surroundings, only to see the very person you were talking about.
"YOU." Your voice rose to a shout, staggering towards him. "Had some nerve coming to my house!" You shouted, tears welling in your eyes as your vision went in and out, "My friends hate me because of you! I will fucking see to it that you are destroyed by my very hands!" You screamed, causing Tohma to panic.
"I'm really sorry! Thank you...again-! (Y/N), please stop." Tohma struggled out. He felt like he was on the verge of a brain aneurysm any second now.
He lunged towards you to hold you back from attacking Scaramouche, but as soon as you did that, you were about to speak again. And then you regurgitated, your body convulsed until you were retching violently, doubling over.
"Oh my god," Tohma mouthed silently, his body frozen.
It was a sight to behold - Scaramouche's dark clothes were colored in a murky brown shade of vomit. But instead of what Tohma thought he was going to do, it was the complete opposite. He didn't recoil in horror, he didn't scream or curse, he simply just stood there, expression unreadable.
He was probably so pissed off that he forgot that he was initially having a horrible day.
"Okay! Okay!!" Tohma said in between two deep breaths, holding you in between his arms even tighter despite your struggling. "Scaramouche. Please let me help you clean up before you leave."
“No.” He replied with a sudden urgency that seethed through his teeth, flicking some of the chunks of sick off of his fingers. “Absolutely not. I’m going home.”
“I’m saying this with all due respect despite everything you’ve done. You can’t go home looking like that, I won’t let you.”
previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next
YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.
taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo @justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @melpomenelurks @keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi @kyon-cherri @1lellykins @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles @kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @pichulakkjkk @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3 @alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith @kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan @yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123 @strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway @agaygothicmushroom @levianamor (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)
#zoropookie#hhab#scaramouche#scaramouche x reader#genshin scaramouche#genshin#genshin impact#genshin smau#genshin x reader#genshin fanfic#genshin x you#genshin x yn#scaramouche x yn#scaramouche x you
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Medical Attention
Cole Cassidy x Reader
a/n: why are there so many bj fics and never handjob ones I think we need to start addressing this in the fanfic community...
content: smut (handjob), a bit of blood, un-established relationship, afab!reader
word count: 3.5k
Bullets spewed from what appeared to be the cliffs themselves, pinging off metal and digging into wood all around your crumpled form; you twitched at every impact, at every sound, and instinctually budged up closer to the man taking cover beside you. Your thoughts were racing at useless speeds- how had you not noticed your attackers sooner? How had someone like you ended up in such a tight situation? It really was a sucker-punch to the ego your career had carefully cultivated up until now. Another bullet smacked into the metal behind your ear and sent it ringing painfully- but you had to think of something unless you felt like fucking dying- which, unsurprisingly, wasn't on the agenda. Your eyes skimmed back over the area as if they hadn't done so a million times, squinting through the riled-up dust and reflections of sunlight. Dilapidated buildings were spotted about the area, 24/7 neon signs dead in the daylight, but no, none of this scenery struck a cord with the escapist spirit in you.
You spoke, words spilling out as liquid, "How the hell are we getting out of this Cass?" His sharp eyes darted to yours, shadowed by the cowboy hat that had to be replaced bi-weekly due to bullet holes. A cigar was notably absent from his parted lips, typical behaviour when he was, for once, taking a situation seriously.
"We're gonna make for that buildin' sugar, after I chuck this," He raised a blue flashbang to your vision as another flurry of bullets ricocheted off your flimsy cover, "Lady's parked up ahead, we can make it, I bet."
You would've scoffed if the situation was anything but this, "Your bike?"
"Uh-huh. You ready?" Your eyes ran to the weighty shift in his hips, and you nodded an affirmative. Whether this was gonna work or not it was the best bet you had, really. Cassidy's sweat-lines brows furrowed deeper, and without another ounce of hesitation he tore the grenade's pin off with his teeth, proceeding then to lob it backwards. Someone shouted, a sound so shrill it almost sounded like a fire alarm, and as the crackling-sound erupted, Cass grabbed your wrist and forced you into a wild sprint across the gravel road. Your boots kicked up dirt as they pounded against the ground, dry air forcing that grime to cling to your clothing in moss-like clumps. Cass didn't break his grip once, forcing you to adopt his relentless pace, and right as you reached your destination, he, with a messy harshness, threw you into the open doorway before himself. A single bullet shot into the open air, whistling like a stock-sound effect, and it forced from your partner a strangled cry as he dove through the doorway. Poisonous panic filled your veins- but it was swiftly knocked out by the cowboy landing unceremoniously on top of you. Every ounce of air was expelled from your lungs in an instant, and your lungs worked overtime to gulp back replacements. Note to self: never, ever expect grace in this job.
"You get hit?" You spoke in an exhale, hands tugging at Cass' belt to drag him and yourself deeper into the wooden building.
"Sure as hell feels like it," He grunted, rolling off you to lean against the wall and examine his left leg; you scrambled up too, wary of the time limitations, and ripped off a strip of your relatively-clean undershirt. Cole's eyes were watching you with an acute intensity, but you were so focused on wrapping his leg that you didn't even notice.
You pulled the shirt-made-bandage into a knot, "No it just skimmed you, lucky since I haven't a clue how to drive a motorbike. Come on cowboy." Upon standing, you tugged Cass up too; in any other moment you would've made fun of the uncharacteristically pathetic whimper that left his throat, but seeing as he'd been shot, you shut up. "You can walk?"
"'Course I can." His gaze met yours as you stood face-to-face, "Whilst it's numb anyway. Come on,"
He lead you out the rustic building's side-entrance, and whilst the wind whipped up the empty town's street, the two of you snuck from house to house until reaching one painted in peeling white. The town itself seemed utterly deserted, a sad old mess really, but it had its charms. That flickering café sign, for example, had a strangely comforting aura about it... Though it was rather hard to enjoy whilst being pursued by a group of bandits. You pressed inside the white building- but Cass grabbed hold of your wrist and held a finger to his lips. There was someone outside, moving as quietly as you, so apparently your pursuers had split up to quicken their search. A smart move. Usually.
You moved on, one tentative foot in front of the other, and when the footsteps outside made it clear that their owner was about to breach the building, you pressed yourself smoothly besides the door, silent, ready. The stranger's cowboy hat poked in first, and with a satisfying 'smack' a moment later, you pistol whipped him into oblivion. Oblivion meaning sleep, of course.
Cassidy flashed you a slightly alarmed smile, "You sure you didn't kill him with that swing?"
"Mm, I'm sure. Maybe next time." He tilted his head in a sort of... Apprehensive approval and pushed you through the door by the small of your back, ushering you along.
"Alright, let's pick up the pace. Not long now." His southern drawl did nothing to add to the urgency, in fact, it did the exact opposite, which tended to be the case so often it had to be purposeful. Sometimes you really did question his attitude to life. It was distinctly casual, distinctly nonchalant as if his life wasn't in danger every week- which it most definitely was. Still... He was skilled, smart in his own way, cute too, if you dared say it. So sticking alongside him wasn't too difficult a task.
The rest of the short journey went quickly and smoothly; the midday sun beat down upon your sweating back whilst objects wavered uncertainly in the distance, but, despite the difficulty scorching heat brought with it, you kept moving. Soon enough you made it to Cassidy's horrendously parked motorbike, wincing as he tested his damaged leg. The dusty cliffs stared down at the two of you, looming but providing little shade, and as the bike spun into motion a figure emerged on a nearby clifftop; your eyes narrowed, your breath stilled, and in a split-second you drew your gun and fired once. The enemy's own bullet skid past your face, bristling past a strand of hair, and they went down with a distant thud as your shot connected with their leg. Your exhale was long as you pressed your head against Cass' back, arms wrapping together around his torso. Safety, you hoped, would come without further fire. Well at any rate, you were much too tired and lazy to pick your gun from its holster again, so maybe you'd be swerving around dodging bullets for the next hour.
"Glad we're on the same side, pumpkin." Cass chuckled, metal arm patting your thigh in congrats, but, despite your laugh, your eyes were trained solely on the dark stain spreading methodically, thread by thread, over your companion's dark jeans.
-
The ride to the safehouse was calm, breezy even. The wind rushed through your hair, cooling you considerably, a gracious gift in this sweltering heat. Buildings and homes rushed by, each soon becoming a small dot in the background of your picturesque ride. The world and its inhabitants appeared fleetingly, mirages of another life, and you were far more content than you'd like to admit. Freedom encased you, lifted you into higher spirits, and with Cassidy mumbling stupid little stories to the air, this feeling was greatly accentuated. Heaven, in this moment, was completely real to you. Your partner shifted his leg, causing a hitch in his breathing; you looked down through your lashes, cringing against his shoulder as you stared at the drying blood stain. That, perhaps, was not so heavenly.
Luckily, the dusty safehouse was right around the bend. Cass parked outside in his usual sloppy manner, and with his metal arm slung over your sore shoulder, the two of you stumbled inside.
"Alright, sit-" You grunted in exertion, "Right there. I'll grab the medkit." Cassidy collapsed onto the couch, head thrown back in the throes of post-adrenaline-realization. You dashed off, returning near instantaneously, ruby med-kit in hand, and proceeded to settle onto the floor to be in-line with his wound. There was no time to waste, seeing as if this thing got infected it would become a much larger issue. Cass stared down at you through his lashes, watched as you carefully pulled off his armour plating, carefully rolled up his jeans. He hissed through clenched teeth as the reddened edge of the cut hit fresh air.
"Slow down sweet- shit stings more than I thought it would." You obliged, but it's not like you could've kept moving anyway. The bullet had skimmed him at a weird angle, below the knee and not easily accessible. If you'd tried to tug his jeans up further it would probably hurt...
"I think you're gonna have to take your pants off."
"What now?" The instant shock on the cowboy's face was enough to make you double over laughing- and he joined in with that strange chuckle one does when not quite understanding a joke.
Your laughter faded, and you choked out words, "I said you need to take these off," You unrolled the jean leg and pinched it, "I can't get to that cut properly otherwise." You were slightly embarrassed at the words leaving your mouth, but your mind was prioritizing getting this issue dealt with before worrying about strange fantasies. Cass stared down at you, an adorably dumbstruck look plastered on his face, but it was soon replaced with a mild amusement.
"Alright then." His deft fingers moved to unbuckle his belt and the infamous 'BAMF' buckle clinked against itself. "I think 'ure lyin' just to see me half-naked."
"What! You're projecting real hard, Cole." He just chuckled, then shrugged, a wide smile now taking residence on his bearded face. "Stop smiling and take your goddamn pants off!"
"Alright, alright. Yes ma'am." His light eyes flicked to yours with undertones of slight uncertainty, but a sly grin stayed present. It was too infectious- you had to smile back at the stupid man, but, despite all the joking around, you felt an almost teenage nervousness taking hold of your heart.
Cass' belt slid through the loops of his jeans, smoothly, and then clattered to the floor as he discarded it. The button of his jeans came next, popping open with directions from his metal hand, and then his zip slid with a satisfying sound. You realized you were staring, and glanced away, eyes finding perch on some ugly painting you'd never noticed before- Christ it was ugly. Who had thought putting that up was a good idea?
By now Cassidy had shucked off his hat, boots and now stood, kicking off his jeans with all the grace of a three legged dog; he made a low noise through his teeth as the fabric detached from the drying wound. Whilst he was at it he pulled off the armour on his chest, but he treated it with a bit more care than his poor belt. It found perch on the floor, and with that done, he fell back into his comfortable couch position, exhaling in the pleasure of having an un-burdened chest.
He sat now, leaning back with his hands over the back of the couch, in black boxers and a casual undershirt. It's not like you hadn't seen him like this before... You had. Maybe once or twice. But your relationship tended to be relatively professional, relatively business-focused. Whenever, even for the briefest second, it went further, you felt the sharp constrictions of a heart that did not want a 'business relationship'. And that, especially in this economy, was a red flag. A red flag that was on fire and waving around desperately in the desert wind.
His voice pulled you back to reality, "How's it lookin' Doc?"
"Not terrible. Isn't too deep, either." You got up to fetch a little towel from the bathroom, wetted it, and returned to your post. "But it's gonna mess you up for a week or so." The white towel reddened as you brushed it gently over his upper-calf, wetting the tanned skin and blood-speckled hair; your movements were gentle, probably considered by most to be caresses. As you swept directly over the cut he sucked in a harsh breath- but you dared not look up and make eye-contact. You wrapped up the wound after cleaning it thoroughly, round-and-round the bandage went before being tied into a neat little knot. Cass had said barely a word during this process, and, seeing as he usually never shut up, that was rather concerning. Brief, throaty noises of pain were all that came from him; there had never really been a problem of tension between the two of you, but right now, in this odd moment where you lay kneeling on the floor packing up a med-kit in front of a modern-day gunslinger, the air felt thicker than mud. It made you feel something you'd never felt before in this mans presence: self-consciousness. Your kept your eyes to the floor, not looking up once whilst closing the kit- and finally, as you stood and took a fleeting look at your partner, you realized exactly why he was unable to form words.
He was hard.
His entire body was brutally tense. He was no longer slack against the couch but sitting almost completely upright. The only thing giving away his living status was the shallow breathing of his chest. You had no fucking clue what to say or do and, oh god, when he finally met your gaze it felt as though you'd fall right to the ground and pass away. Though, that would be extremely embarrassing, so you avoided it.
You decided to mutter some nonsense, seeing as he was clearly struggling to say anything. "It's... Normal... For that to happen." Was it though? Was it normal to get hard over your friend dressing your painful wound? Probably not.
He cleared his throat, his words coming out strained, "Yeah... I don't-" But he couldn't finish. His head fell, an awkward cringe disappearing with it.
Fucking hell.
You felt a years worth of unrealized fantasy wash over you in a tidal wave; you had to do something, now. Did you want to escalate this thing from a business relationship? You almost laughed at the thought- if this was anything like a business relationship, you wouldn't have been on the floor tending over him like a concerned lover in the first place; he certainly could've dealt with the problem himself. Blood was rushing through your ears and right as Cassidy was about to stand and condemn himself to a torturous bubble of embarrassment- you spoke with stunted words.
"I can help. With that." His face returned from its sullen position, confusion with an edge of shock present on it; his lips moved beneath his beard, attempting to form words, and in this brief silence you were almost overcome with grief at what you'd said. What if it really was normal, and he thought the idea of doing anything with you was preposterous? What if he was chaste as a monk and you had just offended his honour?
"You-" He breathed out a chuckle, finally responding, "You sure 'bout that?"
Relief rushed through you, an antidote to the overthinking, "I'm sure."
Cass looked down, considering something, and returned to your gaze with a newfound intensity. He patted his solid thigh, once, and spoke. "Come on up then, doll."
Fuck it. Everybody's slept with their partner-in-crime-cowboy-friend at least once in their lives.
You were soon straddling the man's thigh; a glint of amusement twinkled in your eyes as his hips shifted, his clothed cock twitching at the two of you making contact. Now inches apart, you slipped your fingers under his shirt and smoothed over the chiseled skin, lust-clouded eyes searching his for approval, and an ocean of it you found. His gaze flicked to your partially-open lips, then back up, then down again, and as your fingers brushed over his needy cock- he pressed his lips against yours with a moan, beard scratching against you in a strangely endearing manner. Images of previous nights alone flashed in your mind, now surrounded by a mocking aura- this could've been yours long ago. You freed him from his confines as his tongue met yours, cock hot and heavy against your palm. Cass' metal hand met your waist whilst the other clenched at the couch, veins flexing at the strain. That was the part of him you loved the most, you thought, his strong hands that treated you and you alone with so much tenderness.
Your own hand begun its motions almost automatically, stroking his throbbing cock at a withheld, teasing pace. Unfortunately, during this, you had to pull from his wild kiss for a gasping breath. His gaze was burning through you, half-lidded and desperate; it was like being in the direct view of a God, a being so important that you felt the urge to dedicate more than you could offer, to offer everything to him. Strings of praises left his pretty lips, 'keep goin', princess' his eyes now screwed up in an almost painful expression of wavering ecstasy. You withdrew your hand from his cock for a millisecond to spit into your palm, and his eyes re-opened to investigate the interruption.
He was so gorgeous you could cry.
The perfect hair, framing the perfect face with the perfect nose, the messy beard and perfectly intense eyes. You pressed against him another chain of brief kisses whilst wrapping your fingers around him, one at a time. On impulse he bucked into them with a shuddering groan that shot right to your core; the look on his pleasure-drunk face was so erotic you truly thought it alone might make you cum. As if hearing your thoughts, he bounced his thigh, a gasp spilling from your lips at the shock of friction against your clit.
You quickened your pace, deft fingers wrapped tight around his cock and moving in quick pumps. Your thumb pressed thickly against the head of his dick, a bead of pre-cum slipping over your fingers as he threw his head back with a indiscernible curse; the pride that filled you over having this strong man come apart at your ministrations was immeasurably sweet, immeasurably tantalizing. You moved closer, pressing against his tanned neck a line of wet kisses, hand pumping his cock desperately fast and forcing from his throat a string of grunts as he grew closer and closer to his peak. More broken words stumbled and fell from his lips, 'jus' like that, keep goin''. He was rutting up into your hand now, apprehension and control gone to the wind; his expression was in the throes of pleasure, eyebrows arched, wet lips parted absently. He met your eyes through his dark lashes, a weak smirk finding perch on his expression; he looked so utterly wrecked by a mere handjob, shaggy hair a complete mess against the couch, and at once it hit you that all those lingering glances and touches were far, far from those of a concerned friends. The thought of him yearning for this, yearning for your touch, made your thighs clench with unreserved arousal; by now your panties were soaked, but not for one second did you think of anything besides Cassidy. You kept moving, hand tugging from the base of his thick cock to the head, and he kissed you again, hard, moaning into your mouth whilst he twitched in your hand. Finally- his firm hips stuttered as he spilled hot cum over your fingers and his own dark shirt. You hummed in approval against his mouth, soon after pulling away for pesky air. Cass meanwhile let his head fall back against the couch, chest heaving against that much-too-tight shirt of his. Feeling rather bold, you raised your hand to your lips as his gaze re-emerged through his lashes and licked his mess from your fingers- his instant response came as a groan and a firm slap against your thigh.
"Can't say that's how I imagined us endin' up in this situation.." He sighed, contently, but tiredly.
"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked, pressing another chain of hot kisses against his neck as he tucked himself back into his boxers.
"Thought maybe I'd rescue you or somethin', have you profess 'ure undying love." He was grinning... But something told you that this was an actual macho fantasy of his.
"Well, there's always next time cowpoke." You rolled off his thigh, settling onto the couch beside him. "How are we gonna explain to everyone that this is how we got together?"
Cass chuckled, mumbling something about the night not being over, and reached over to grab his hat and settle it onto your head. You glanced over, confused- but the look in his eyes said more than any words could.
#cole cassidy x reader#overwatch x reader#overwatch x you#overwatch smut#overwatch imagines#cassidy x reader#cole cassidy smut
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Always Choose You
Happy 2 Years of ErodasFishTacos ♥️
Hi, my loves. Long time, no see! I am coming up on my second year of writing and wanted to celebrate with everyone.
I posted this on my patreon and wanted to share the twins with everyone. Thank you for all the support from everyone over the past two years.
I am still no longer posting regularly on here but I want to give everybody a little something ❤️
prompt: follow MLB!H and YN through nine months of pregnancy with the twins
word count: 10k+
warnings: smut, angsts, birth
Easton is 10, Cash is 8, Ezra is 6, Briar is 4 :)
I really hope you enjoy! Please let me know your thoughts!
love you all so much
isla x
-
two months; eight weeks
Harry was sniffling the whole ride home.
He had managed to keep it together through the rest of the appointment but as soon as they got in the car, he lost it and was crying.
YN asked twice whether he was okay because she couldn’t quite decipher whether they were happy or not after a few minutes but Harry had just squeezed her thigh and said he was ‘okay’ even though she felt like he was breathing a bit too hard.
“Can you pull over?” YN asks a few minutes away from their house, it was all woods surrounding them as they drove up to where they were tucked away in privacy from the world.
“Of course, do you feel nauseous?” Harry answers instantly but he’s already pulling off on the side of the road - there wasn’t any houses or other cars near them.
“Get out with me for a minute,” YN says instead as she opens the passenger door, waiting until Harry walks around the car with a bit of a perplexed expression but as soon as he’s in front of her, she presses his body back against the car.
“I can’t tell for certain but I feel like your about to have a panic attack. The tears and how fast your chest is moving up and down. Are you scared that it’s twins?”
Harry squeezes his eyes shut and shudders out a shaky breath, shaking his head ‘no’ before actually mumbling, “It…I couldn’t be happier that we’re having twins. It’s a dream come true to have one more baby than we bargained for.”
“Then what is it, H?” YN frowns as she uses the sleeve of her hoodie to wipe the tears off his cheeks as they continuously run down, she hasn’t seen him like this in a long time and it was starting to make her worried.
“I…” Harry swallows harshly, avoiding her eye contact that he normally never did, “I feel like I’m having trouble breathing, I think am having a panic attack because I’m so in my head right now and I am so worried…”
“Harry,” YN replies firmly, putting her hand over his heart, “What are you worried about? The babies are healthy and growing normally -“
“S’not about the babies,” Harry shakes his head again.
“Baby, I’m not a mind-reader,” YN reminds him as she feels how fast his heart is beating, “If it’s not about the babies, then what is it about?”
Harry blinks up at her, hesitating as he wipes his face, “You. I…As soon as she said twins. I know it’s going to be so much for you and it’s not what we planned - to have two more. I didn’t even ask how you were feeling. And now I’m worrying that you felt pressured to have more children and if that leads you to resent me because of the twins.”
YN can’t help but snort out a laugh, “You’re absurd, you know that?”
Harry’s face drops into a boyish pout, “Don’t laugh at me.”
“You’re having a panic attack over something that isn’t even happeninf, H,” YN soothes, using a nicer tone as she wraps her arms around his narrow waist and nuzzles her face into his chest.
“I came to you asking for another baby, I’m sure you remember. I know you wouldn’t have minded more children but I knew you would have been okay with my decision if I didn’t want more. I want both of these babies and now I can’t picture just being pregnant with one. Please stop worry and go back to being happy about it.”
“I’m so happy,” Harry murmurs into her hair as he hugs her closer, “I can’t believe that we are going to have two more bubs running around our house. I think East, Cash, and Ezzie are going to be so excited. Briar may lose her mind not being the baby anymore.”
“Or what if she’s not the only girl too?” YN giggles because she can imagine Briar either loving a sister or having to transition to the idea of it.
“I can’t imagine it, I feel like you’re a boy mama beside her,” Harry smiles, his heart rate already going back to normal, “I love you with everything in me and more. I am so grateful for everything you do for us and continue to do. This family wouldn’t be without you.”
YN pulls back to smile back at her husband, “Do you want to have a quickie in the car before we go home?”
“Hey, I was trying to be romantic and sweet,” Harry remarks as a surprise laugh comes from his chest, his hand moving down to smack her bum lightly as if to scold her.
“So is that a no?”
“The answer to that question will never be no,” Harry’s voice drops lower, predictable as always, “Get your arse in the backseat.”
-
When they get home from the doctor, Anne is sat in the backyard as all four of the children run around on the playset and sandbox, Easton and Cash chasing each other around as Briar and Ezra look to be having a tea party with their dolls and stuffies.
“Is there good news?” Anne asks hopefully as Harry and YN take a seat on the lounger next to her; the kids hadn’t spotted them quite yet.
“Mum,” Harry can’t tamper down how wide his smile is, “We’re having twins.”
Anne’s eyes widen comically before they start to water, “I’m going to have two more grandbabies? Are you pulling my leg?”
YN riffles through her purse to pull out the sonogram where baby one and two are labeled, they’re tiny and still look like little blobs but they’re there nonetheless.
“My goodness,” Anne puts a hand up to her mouth, eyes watering as she stares at the little picture in her hand, “Two more to love. I’m so happy for you two.”
Anne leans over, tugs YN into a tight hug and it feels like a flashback to when they first told her about Easton.
-
YN shakily hands over the sonogram to Anne, Harry had his hand firm on her shoulder to remind that he was there.
“Look at how much he’s growing ,” Anne coos as she traces her finger over the photograph, “He’s looking so big!”
“Doctor said he looks completely healthy, labs came back and they were all as they should be,” Harry smiles proudly, his hand moving around to cradle the bump.
“You guys are so excited aren’t you,” Anne grins as she looks between the two of them - the excitement and love was obvious.
“I know we’re young but we are so excited to have this baby. We will be graduated from college and in New York for Harry. It will be a new journey but we are so incredibly happy.”
“That’s all that matters,” Anne hums as she pulls them into a strong hug, “Happy kids and a healthy grandbaby.”
-
Anne quickly tucks the picture under her thigh when all the children realize their parents are home at last.
Briar crawling up onto YN’s lap and cuddles right into her chest with a whiney, “Mama, mama, mama.”
“I’m right here. We were just gone for a little, hm? Being such a good girl for nana,” YN coos as Briar blinks heavily, she was just about ready for a nap, and that girl loved her sleep.
“Daddy,” Briar lazily reaches over to tug at Harry’s shirtsleeve to get his attention before tucking herself back into the cradle of YN’s arm.
“Hi lil’ mama, I see you,” Harry leans over to kiss her forehead and smooth out a stray curl but lets out an ‘oomph’ when three rambunctious boys jump on him at the same time, “Were you three monsters good for nana?”
They all chime out a giggly ‘yes’ as they cling on their father, excited both their parents are home with them.
“Alright, m’going to give you three a head start. I’m going to count to five and then I’m going to get you!” Harry growls which makes the boys all squeal and begin to run back into the yard.
Harry bolts after them, wasting no time in tackling Easton who’s laughing so hard he has tears streaming down his face.
Briar starts grumbling and squirming around, she is serious about her sleep, she blinks up at YN and says, “Nap, mama. Now.”
“You’re such an amazing mother,” Anne puts her hand on YN’s knee with a soft smile, “I can’t wait to see what this journey brings you.”
-
month three; 16 weeks
The smallest bump was starting to show on YN’s belly and it was easy to cover with an oversized shirt or hoodie but while she was standing at the mirror, it was obvious to see.
Harry was still in season, traveling, and her bump was changing with such frequency that she looked just a little bit different every time that Harry saw her.
They had to tell the children soon, YN didn’t know how some of them would respond - they knew that Ezra would be excited but she couldn’t guarantee the rest of them.
YN was eager to show Harry that her little bump had started to protrude, she started to show maybe a few weeks later into pregnancy with the others but since she was growing two - she assumed that she would get bigger faster and that seemed to be proving right.
That night, Harry was getting in from Denver and as always, he loved when YN stayed up and waited but he assured her she didn’t need to.
He knew how tired she was by the end of the night from parenting all day, sometimes he found her asleep from where she valiantly tried to wait up but ended up dozing off on the couch.
Harry comes in through the garage, dropping his suitcase and duffle entryway before he goes about grabbing a water bottle and seeing if there’s any leftovers from dinner.
He feels stupid that he gets butterflies in his stomach when he sees a container of chicken, rice, and vegetables with a post-it note that just has the initial H with a heart.
When he puts it in the microwave, YN must hear that because she’s padding into the kitchen in one of Harry’s shirts and just a pair of underwear.
“Mama,” Harry rasps, his voice worn from yelling during the games, “C’mere, I missed you so fucking much.”
YN walks right into his arms, allowing Harry to wrap her in a tight hug before he’s pulling back to kiss her nose then lips.
“I missed you too. I hate when you leave us, never gets easier,” YN sighs sadly and that was something that happened during every pregnancy.
YN always misses Harry when he is gone but when she was pregnant was the only time her hormones were off and she got angry about it before crying and apologizing.
“You know I’m never gone for longer than I need to be. And anytime I’m away, I’m thinking about home,” Harry murmurs sweetly, ignoring the alarm of the microwave signaling his food’s done, “Thank you for leaving me dinner. You always surprise me.”
YN steps back suddenly with an excited grin, taking enough room back so Harry can see her fully, “Speaking of surprises, I have another one.”
Harry squints at her with skepticism, leans up against the counter, “Whassit?”
YN lifts up her shirt and holds it under her breasts, turning to the side, and looking back at Harry to see his reaction.
He just stares at it for a moment in silence before his eyes find hers but he’s holding her gaze for no longer than a second before he’s glancing back down at her belly.
“S’a bump,” Harry whispers gleefully before he is scurrying forward to cradle her tummy in his hands, “It’s little but it’s there. You’ve never showed this early but it’s because we got two of ‘em in there. Oh my god, this is the best surprise.”
YN is always grateful with how attentive he is to her pregnancy, some women she’s friends with - their husbands can’t even remember what trimester there is, let alone week or what their bump looked like from the last pregnancy.
“Let me take a picture,” Harry reaches for his phone in his pocket, taking a few steps back to take a picture of his wife smiling down at where her babies are growing, “Fuck, you’re the most beautiful thing on this earth.”
And right when he’s about to put his phone away, YN says, “Wait, one more picture!”
And when Harry brings his phone back up, YN being the cheeky thing she is, pulls her shirt up until her breasts are revealed - soft but perky as she shakes them at the camera.
Harry definitely snaps more than one picture before he’s slipping his phone in his pocket, “S’that how it’s going to be? You like knowing there’s pictures of your tits on my phone, look at ‘em constantly when I’m away.”
“That’s all you have on your phone?” YN teases with a smirk, knowing there’s a double passcode protected album that contains much more than that.
“Got a pretty nice variety,” Harry drawls, his voice deep with arousal as he begins to stalk towards her, “Your tits, your bum, my cock in you, the list goes on, baby.”
YN giggles as he presses her back into the counter by crowding into her space, the ledge at the lower of her back, and his dinner completely forgotten- he was hungry for something else.
“You’re so easy,” YN tells him for the millionth time in their relationship because she can get him going by just existing.
And Harry replies often in the same way, “I’m demi and I’m only attracted to you. Imagine being married to the most attractive person in the world and that’s what it’s like for me. I am married to the person I’m most and only attracted to, it’s a dream.”
“You’re the most attractive person in the world to me,” YN replies sweetly because it’s true, he is the hottest man on this earth and no one could tell her elsewise.
“Show me then, take me out, pet,” Harry murmurs in the filthiest tone, his athletic shorts showing clearly that he was plumped and ready for her.
YN was just about the tug down on the waistband when a cry echoed out through the house.
The noise came from the top of the staircase because there was a gate up because YN didn’t want any of the children to be half asleep and take a tumble.
It was Briar without a doubt as she cried out, “Mama, daddy.”
“She has not been sleeping well,” YN sighs, patting Harry’s hip, “Reheat your dinner and then come upstairs.”
This was a common occurrence that they had to get used to with a household of children, they were going to get interrupted.
Harry gives a sad little pout but nods, giving her a kiss and a smack on the bum before YN’s disappearing back to the foyer to the staircase.
He can hear Briar’s desperate little whines when she sees her mother, “Mama, mama, hold me, please. Where’s daddy?”
His heart breaks a little bit, YN responds too softly for him to hear but he quickly turns the microwave back on and scarfs down his dinner.
When he found them, YN had brought Briar into their bed which he didn’t mind one bit, and wasn't going to turn down a cuddle from his two favorite girls.
Briar looks up happily from where she’s cuddled into her mother, “Daddy, you’re home. I missed you.”
And it is the sweetest sentiment but he hates that his kids have to miss him, he knows it’s going to be two times harder when he has two more babies to leave at home.
He can’t share it with YN until Briar drifts off to sleep because the kids don’t know about the babies yet but they won’t be able to hide it for much longer.
“How am I going to leave you and them after the twins are born?” Harry murmurs softly after Briar had finally fell back asleep between the two of them.
“The same way you have the past four times,” YN says back as she reaches over to brush at his curls that Briar had run her hands through, “It will be okay.”
“Six kids,” Harry replies with a frown, “I will feel like shit for leaving you, every single time. More than I do now.”
“Have I not handled it well these past ten years? Since Easton was a baby?” YN asks and there’s a bit of defensiveness in her voice like he’s offended her abilities.
“Mama,” Harry titters because he didn’t want his own anxiety to be misconstrued, “It doesn’t have anything to do with you. You do such a fucking good job. We have four perfect amazing kids. It’s more about me, I guess, not being a good enough husband or dad.”
“But you are,” YN reassured him fiercely, “You are the best provider. You provide for me so that I can stay home and raise our babies. You make sure our children have anything they could ever need or want on top of always being present, even when you’re away.”
Harry turns his face to where her hand is on her cheek and kisses her palm, “Are you worried about having six kids at home without me sometimes?”
YN shakes her head, “I always have your mom’s help. Plus Easton, Cash, and Ezra will be in school full time and Briar will be in preschool three days a week before she’s off to kindergarten.”
“I never want you to feel like when I’m away you have to do this on your own.”
“Why do you talk like you abandon me? I’m never on my own. I always have you. I know that if I needed you, you would get on a flight in half a minute.”
He would. He one hundred percent would.
-
four months; 16 weeks
The bump was noticeable now.
YN could still get away with loose clothing which she has been doing but if the fabric clings anywhere near her belly it’s obvious.
Tonight was when they were going to tell the kids about their new siblings and they didn’t know how they were going to take it.
YN had her bet that Easton would be the least thrilled while Harry bet on Briar having a tantrum over it.
They were both wrong.
It was just after dinner, the sun hadn’t set yet but it was starting to creep below the trees that surrounded their estate to keep everyone out.
YN had made cupcakes and each child was eagerly unwrapping the baking paper to get to the sprinkles and icing.
“Okay, Mama and I have some news,” Harry announces when they had settled back down and were working their ways through dessert.
“S’it good or bad news?” Easton asks through a mouthful of a vanilla cupcake, blue icing coating his lips.
“We definitely think it’s good news,” YN smiles and she felt nervousness in her stomach over delivering the news and Harry could sense it so he took the reins.
“Mama is pregnant,” Harry announces which makes all the children look in a bit of confusion to which Cash interrupts.
“Does that mean you can’t have peanuts? I think Landon is pregnant in my class,” Cash remarks as Easton snickers at his cluelessness which makes him whine.
“That’s an allergy,” Harry chuckles as he clarifies, “It means that mama has babies growing in her belly. Usually, it’s just one. But we were extra lucky and mama has two in her stomach which means you’re going to be getting two brothers or sisters.”
Easton looks absolutely thrilled as he chirps, “Really? That means two more people playing games with us! That means Marco Polo in the pool will be even better!”
Ezra squeals with joy, clapping his hands, and squirming in his seat when he giggles, “I can help mama with the babies!”
Briar is still so little that she’s a bit confused but has a smile on her face.
She seems to like what Ezra says and agrees, “Take care of babies with mama and Ez.”
As for Cash, his brow is furrowed and he had stopped eating his cupcake, silent for a moment before he melts down.
“No! No babies! I don’t want a stupid baby,” Cash shouts angrily as he throws his cupcake on the floor before shoving out of his chair and storming away.
He marches toward the back sliding door that connects to the kitchen, opening it before running out into the backyard where YN and Harry watch him climb up into the tree house they have built.
None of the kids typically acted out like that and it left the three of them in disbelief that Cash had thrown his cupcake and ran outside without permission.
“Cash is in troubleee,” Easton giggles as looks down at the marble floor smeared with sprinkles and icing with a splattered cupcake.
“Easton,” YN says with a firm look.
He zips his lips quick and finds interest in his cupcake wrapper.
“That wasn’t good. Why did he do that, daddy?” Ezra asks within concern as he watches Harry bend down to pick up the thrown food and wipe the floor with a napkin.
“Well sometimes when people have really big feelings, they struggle to express it without doing something. Cash was angry and he didn’t know how to convey it so he threw his food and ran outside,” Harry explains calmly, “So we will talk to Cash about how to express that better and what you guys can do is show him lots of love. Okay?”
“Yes, daddy,” Ezra agrees sweetly and Harry has to lean down to kiss his forehead because he’s just the sweetest boy.
“I’m sorry I laughed,” Easton sniffles as he glances down, “I wasn’t trying to be mean.”
“East,” YN coos softly, quickly making her way over to lean down and hug him, “It’s okay, baby. We know it wasn’t like that, we just have to be considerate of others feelings. No tears, baby.”
“I’m not a baby,” Easton giggles through a few stray tears as his mama blows a raspberry on his cheek to brighten him up.
“You’ll always be my first baby,” YN assures him as she smothers him in love, “My baby Easton, always my bubba.”
Harry’s heart is a puddle of goo as he watches them.
“We should go check on him,” YN murmurs as she ruffles Easton’s curls, “Can you three please go in the den and put on a movie? We will be right back. We’ll just be in the backyard if you need us, okay?”
They agree before Easton is shuffling Ezra and Briar out of the room who are already chattering about what movie to put on.
YN and Harry make their way outside, down to the stump of the tree before Harry calls up, “Cash, can we please come up? S’just me and your mama.”
There’s a minute of silence before there’s a weepy, “Yes.”
Harry and YN make their way up into the little one-room tree house that had a few books and toys scattered about.
Cash was tucked in the corner, looking out the window with damp cheeks.
Harry and YN don’t try to get into his space, staying at the other side of the treehouse, and Cash refuses to look at them.
“Baby, can you please tell us what you're thinking?” YN prompts in her most soothing voice, she hated seeing Cash like this who was normally the most upbeat, carefree, goofy one.
“A-am I in trouble for throw-throwing the cupcake and coming ou-outside without permission?” Cash whimpers, stuttering through the sentence because he was crying so hard.
“No, you’re not in trouble,” Harry tells him in a tone that matches YN’s, “We know we just told you something really big and it’s okay to have big feelings. Next time, we would like you to talk instead of doing those things but you’re not in trouble, bub.”
Cash finally looks at them, green eyes watery and his bottom lip wobbling, “What if Easton doesn’t want to play with me anymore? What if Ezra and Briar like the new babies better than me?”
“Is that what you’re worried about?” Harry asks with his own frown.
“Yes because Easton said more fun with games. Briar and Ezzie were excited too,” Cash pouts but his body language is more open.
When Harry opens his arms, Cash takes the invitation to move over to let Harry wrap him in a tight hug.
At eight, Cash still liked a cuddle but not as often and for Harry it was nice to have his little boy want that once again as he buried his face in Harry’s chest.
“Easton is excited to have more people to play with but that doesn’t mean he won’t want to play with you. Same with Ezra and Briar. The new babies won’t be replacing you. No one could replace you,” Harry murmurs against his son’s identical chocolate curls, “Everyone loves you so so much.”
“Promise, dad?” Cash asks, voice muffled but the words were still clear.
“I promise the twins being born will be a good thing and just make everything more fun. We would never do anything to hurt you,” Harry promises as he rocks his son a bit, a special moment he’ll never forget.
YN gives them some alone time as she goes back in the house, stepping into the den to see that all three are on the couch, and watching Moana.
Easton despises Moana so YN knows he let his little siblings decide because she could see the boredom written all over his face.
She steps over and plops next to him, whispering in his ear, “Thank you for helping. You can have another cupcake if you want one.”
And with that, Easton’s off the couch and scurrying off to get an extra helping of dessert like it was the best prize in the world.
Ezra and Briar peek over at their mother before looking back at each other before her son’s speaking up, “Mama, can we see the babies?”
“Of course, you can,” YN hums as she leans backwards against the couch, pulling up her shirt to reveal the bump.
“They’re in there?” Briar whispers in awe, both of their hands coming to roam over the skin, “What are they doing?”
“They’re getting big and strong,” Ezra chirps in knowledgeably as he leans down to lay his head on her belly, “But we can still cuddle ‘em.”
“Okay,” Briar agrees before adjusting her position too, both of them now focus back on the movie with their heads resting on her.
-
About fifteen minutes later, Harry’s coming into the den with Cash on his back, arms around his neck, and he’s belly laughing at whatever Harry is singing to him before he’s collapsing on the couch with him, acting like he’s going to squish him.
“Daddy, no!” Cash howls with humor as he lightly smacks his dad’s back before he cuts off which concerns Harry so he follows Cash’s gaze.
Cash was staring at his two younger siblings who were cuddled up against the bump in his mama’s stomach.
YN and Harry both share a concerned glance, unsure of whether this would set him off again after Harry just spent the time to calm him down.
“Mama,” Cash’s voice is shaky again but this time he sounds nervous.
“Yes, baby?”
“Can, um… Can I have a cuddle with the babies too?” He asks hesitant before adding, “I will be nice, not like earlier.”
“Come here, sweet boy,” YN titters as she beckons him over, Ezra moves over back towards his original position on the couch so that Cash can have his turn as his eyes stay glued to the screen.
Cash cautiously moves over until his head is rested by Briar, YN’s hand coming to run her fingers through his unruly curls as he wriggles to get comfortable.
“Just because you got angry earlier doesn’t mean you’re not nice,” YN reminds him, “It’s okay to be upset that there’s going to be a change.”
“Daddy said that Easton, Ezra, and Briar will still want to play with me.”
“Of course they will,” YN soothes with a chuckle, “You’re still going to be just as special to daddy, me, East, Ez, and Briar. That will never change.”
“I think I’m excited then,” Cash mumbles as his eyes start to droop, tired from all the activity, and soon after, his breathing had evened out and he was fast asleep with his head on the bump.
-
month five; 20 weeks
There was an uptick in paparazzi as soon as people caught wind that Harry Styles was expecting baby number five (and six).
Which in turn, made his protectiveness go up nearly tenfold - always concerned about his wife and children’s safety around aggressive, photo-hungry people.
They weren’t trying to hide the pregnancy, at this point, YN’s bump was big enough that it was unmistakable what it was.
It started at the grocery store when someone snapped a blurry picture of YN reaching for a box of cereal and her bump was obvious.
The next day it was all over the news.
Styles with Baby Five on the Way!
How Many Kids Does Harry Styles Want?
Accident or Planned? YN Styles Pregnant!
Harry Styles Net Worth Just Hit $600 Million - A Baby To Celebrate?
YN stayed out of the media, she wasn’t active on social media or trying to be an influencer - she wasn’t ever interested in that and so in turn, people dubbed YN as mysterious because they did not know much about her.
Harry was arguably one of the most famous athletes on earth but despite that, he was just as private in his personal life.
He was constantly being put on all the major sports networks, he was on television usually three times a week during a game, and then post-games interviews after that.
Harry did interviews on television, in magazines but he always made sure that the main thing he was talking about was his career and not his personal life.
Did he like to throw in how much he loved his wife and kids? Sure but he wasn’t eager to share anymore than that usually.
It will never feel normal to have paparazzi following her and she especially hates it when she has the kids without Harry.
A group of seven or eight photographers decided that it was perfectly acceptable to plant themselves at one of Easton’s baseball games to try to get more pictures of YN’s bump.
Harry was in the city for a photoshoot for Nike but he was going to be on his way to the game if he wasn’t done already.
YN was on edge because she’s trying to watch Easton play but all she can focus on is a group of men with long lenses that are all pointed at her.
Normally the other kids would go play on the playground but YN didn’t trust those men and made them right by her side with the photographers around which made them all a bit miserable and whiny.
It was also embarrassing because YN could tell it made the other families attending the game uncomfortable and they all knew it was because of her.
The biggest concern was when Harry shows up because YN knows that he will absolutely flip when he sees a group of men with cameras pointed towards his pregnant wife and little children.
And she was a hundred percent right.
YN (and honestly the other parents) watches as a tinted, sleek matte black SUV pulls into the parking lot and the vehicle is unmistakably Harry’s, and by the way he slams on the break, throws the car in park, and is getting out of the car with agitation.
He’s a bit far away from where YN is, she can’t hear everything that’s being said but she does see is Harry storming right over the group of men who quickly turn the camera and video recorders on him.
YN quickly gets up, asking one of the mom’s who she is friends with if she can keep an eye on the three for a moment while she makes sure Harry doesn’t do anything he regrets.
When she gets close enough, Harry’s not yelling but his voice is booming and full of threats as he speaks, “Following me is one thing. Follow m’wife and children to their baseball games, are you fucking insane? Do I have to file a restraining order against all fucking seven of you? You don’t want that or you’ll lose out of all your money shots, you fuckin’ leeches.”
“Harry,” YN interrupts as the photographers try to profusely apologize, the last thing they want is Harry to file a restraining order because he makes them the most money.
Harry’s green eyes are fiery, his fist clenched at his sides, and his shoulders tensed as he stares down the paparazzi who are cowering and taking big steps back (they also probably don’t want their cameras broken).
“Get the fuck out here. If you release any pictures of my children,” Harry grits out, trying to maintain his cool, “I will sue you for everything you’re worth. I’m an adult, I chose this. They didn’t. I won’t hesitate to protect them. Do you understand me?”
They all nod with worried expressions.
“I said, do you fucking understand me?” Harry barks out, demanding verbal confirmation which they all give as soon as he shouts at them, he’s giving them one last dirty look before they’re turning and running to their cars.
Harry waits until they’re all peeling out of the parking lot before he’s turning to YN, who’s looking at him with a pursed expression, he pouts at her, “What?”
“Nothing,” YN shrugs as she intertwines their hands to begin their way back to the field where all the other parents are trying desperately not to stare but they are, “You’re just so hot when you’re being a good dad and husband.”
Cue Harry’s sleazy grin, “Yeah? Does that mean I’ll get some tonight, mama?”
“I’ll consider it,” She hums teasingly, smacking his hand when he moves to get a feel of her bum but when he tries again, she lets him get a good handful as a promise of tonight.
“How are the bubs,” Harry asks as his hand moves to her bump, “Can see your bump from a mile away now. It’s making newspapers everywhere. My pretty pregnant wife.”
YN scoffs as she shakes her head, “I don’t know why but I saw my face on a People Magazine in the grocery store yesterday. It said, ‘A Baby To Save The Marriage’, do you have something to tell me?”
Harry snorts out a laugh, “The day they get a story right will be a magical day in history. Those magazines don’t benefit from healthy marriages and happy families.”
“They really don’t benefit from us then,” YN mumurs as Harry leans over to kiss her temple, “They’re doing good. I thought I felt a flutter of movement earlier but it was only once so I don’t know.”
“I can’t wait to feel them. Just feels like yesterday Briar was kicking at you in the middle of the night and it woke me up,” Harry laughs fondly, “Speaking of Briar.”
As soon as they got close enough, Briar was hurriedly running over to her father who scooped her right up, “Missed you, daddy.”
-
When they got home and all the kids were asleep, Harry made a few calls to his lawyers about what he can do about the paparazzi showing up at the children’s sporting games and how to prevent their pictures from getting blasted all over the internet.
YN was brushing out her damp hair in their bathroom when she felt that same flutter from earlier but it was stronger, she held her breath hoping that it wasn’t her mind playing tricks on her.
The movement continued which made YN hike up her shirt and touch gently at her stomach, there was definitely a baby or maybe both moving around in there, and she was so excited she dropped her hairbrush.
Without a second thought, she’s walking as fast as her pregnant self will let her down the stairs to the office where Harry’s having a tense conversation based on the sharpness in his tone.
“That’s the only thing that can be done?” Harry snapped at someone, his face was contorted into an angry grimace as he sat in his office chair, feet up on the desk, and twirling his wedding band.
When Harry sees YN standing there with wide eyes and an unreadable expression, he rudely says to whoever is on the other line, “I’ll call you back tomorrow,” before hanging up.
“Everything okay, baby?” Harry worries as he stands up and starts walking towards her.
YN nods before shoving up her shirt again, she grabs his hand as soon as he’s close enough, and puts it right on the middle right of her bump where there’s one of the twins rolling around.
YN doesn’t realize that she has tears streaming down her face until Harry wipes them before kissing her nose, “Why are you crying, mama?”
“I didn’t realize how much I missed the feeling,” YN sniffles with a giggle, they were happy tears, and it was her twins telling her that they’re healthy and growing strong - that she’s doing a good job.
“It’s just like a butterfly,” Harry hums as he squats down, kissing over the spot where one of the babies is moving, and YN’s heart melts at the sight, she loved him so much.
-
month six; week 24
The sex was going to be a surprise to everyone, they decided just like with their other babies that they wanted it to be a mystery up until their birth.
As they lay in bed, Harry is in his usual position now which was with his head resting on her thighs, just below the bump - he was always waiting to feel a kick or flutter.
“How do you feel about the name Posie for a girl?” Harry hums as they both scroll through their phones on a baby name app.
“Do you think we will have a girl? What if we have two girls?” YN hums in disbelief, “I just can’t imagine Briar having sisters. But no, no to Posie.”
“What about Teddy? Could be for a boy or a girl?” Harry brings after a few minutes later as he favorites that name.
“I love it actually,” YN sits up a bit more, the name instantly connecting for her, “I think I like it best for a boy but I love that name.”
Harry looks at her skeptically, “Did we just come up with one of the names that easily? Can it be that simple?”
YN shrugs with a hand affectionately rubbing at her belly as she says the name out loud again, “Teddy. Teddy Styles. It’s perfect.”
Then for the next few weeks it’s not easy.
Harry will text her a few.
H: Annie, Violet, or Daisy?
YN: Nope.
YN: Lily, Vera, or Mia?
H: No.
Then one day YN texts
YN: I think I found the name. Just like Teddy, it could be for a girl or boy.
H: Try me. I think we have vetoed every name in existence.
YN: Scout.
And as Harry sits in the locker room, supposed to be putting on his gear, he’s struck with absolute joy because it fits so well.
H: Scout and Teddy?
YN: Scout and Teddy.
H: I love them.
YN: We named our babies 🥹
H: I love you, mama ❤️
-
YN isn’t the same person she was when she had Easton - then she was young, afraid to offend, and eager to please.
And when Gemma had come at her for the unplanned pregnancy, YN had let it flip her whole world upside down and make her feel like absolute garbage for quite a while.
Now, YN was different and for the better - she had no problem standing up for herself when it came to her sister-in-law.
They didn’t spend much time together but YN tolerated her.
Ever since the riff about Easton, Harry’s never been close with her again, and YN knows Gemma puts blame on YN for that but YN couldn’t convince Harry to try to make amends because he didn’t want to.
YN had a feeling as she was cleaning up the dining room after a family dinner with Anne, Dave (her boyfriend), and Gemma that there had to be at least one smart remark.
It comes as YN begins loading the dishwasher while Anne and Dave help Harry wrangle the kids outside to make s’mores in the fire pit.
“Thanks,” YN says to Gemma as she brings in the rest of the plates and silverware from dinner, Gemma nods before leaning against the counter and crosses her arms over her chest.
“So twins, that’s so exciting,” Gemma remarks but her voice is flat and doesn’t sound like the thought of having two more nieces/nephews is that exciting to her.
“It is,” YN nods as she focuses on scrubbing a spot on one of the wine glasses, her hormones had been shifty these past few weeks as to be expected with pregnancy and she didn’t like where this was going.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Gemma prompts with a casually shrug, trying to come off as nonchalant, “I mean four is a lot already and you guys are still young. Six kids by the time you’re thirty and thirty-one? I mean Harry didn’t get to experience any of his twenties.”
YN, who is normally a pro at containing her rage, well that’s not the case tonight because her hormones have her capacity for bullshit at an all time low, she slams down the wine glass in the sink and looks over at Gemma.
“Harry didn’t get to experience his twenties?” YN scoffs with a dangerous edge to her voice, “He became the richest baseball player in history, is the captain of The New York Yankees, is living every dream he had as a child. He experienced more in his twenties than most people ever do.”
Gemma’s lips turn down, she was testing YN and was definitely surprised by the pushback that she was getting.
She had been expecting that she could bully YN and that wasn’t the case, she wasn’t the scared and pregnant twenty year old anymore. She was a grown woman who was secure in her relationship.
“It’s not like that,” Gemma tries to downplay, picking at her nails, “It’s just he could have done more if he didn’t have so many responsibilities at home. I’m just looking out for my little brother.”
YN shuts off the water with a bit more force than necessary before grabbing a hand towel to dry off, “Gemma, I’m so sorry if it offends you the amount of children we decided to have. However, I have some bad news for you. I couldn’t have conceived these babies without Harry and believe me, he wanted our children more than anything else in the world.”
YN continued on as her voice rose louder, “More than money, more than baseball. I know you don’t understand because you don’t have children but I know he would choose me and our babies over baseball and experiencing his twenties a million times over. I’m sorry if that upsets you.”
Then someone is clearing their throat and both women look to see Harry standing in the doorway to the kitchen with furious expression, arms crossed tight across his chest, and the vein on his neck popping in effort to stay calm.
“Get out.”
And Gemma has the nerve to look at YN with a sickeningly sweet smile, as if Harr was telling YN to get out but she knew better and Gemma was too cocky for her own good, honestly delusional at this point.
“Gemma, get the fuck out of my house,” Harry repeats with a louder tone this time, “I don’t know how many chances I have given you to get your shit together but enough is enough.”
Gemma opens her mouth like she’s about to argue but Harry puts his hand up to stop her from even beginnning.
“I don’t want to hear it. Nothing you ever say or do is helping me,” Harry tells her clearly, “And for the record, YN couldn’t be more accurate. I chose her and I chose all six of my children first. Over anything. You have your own life to live, stop trying to control mine.”
“I am just try-“
“God damn it, don’t make me yell,” Harry sighs as he squeezes the bridge of his nose.
“You always pick YN. You’re supposed to pick your family.”
Harry lets out a laugh, loud and obnoxious enough that it even makes YN jump, “For fucks sake, Gemma. Don’t you see? I will always pick YN. I will always pick my children. They are my family. Not you, a poor excuse of a sister.”
And at first, YN’s heart jumps when she sees Ezra wander right up next to Harry and tug on his shorts, unaware of how absolutely seething Harry is.
“Daddy, Easton was telling a scary story and now m’really anxious. Can you help me do my breathing to calm down?”
And Harry snaps out of it instantly, his death glare towards his sister softens when he kneels down to attend to his son.
“Of course, I can. Patricia will be so happy to hear that you used it. Let’s go somewhere quiet, okay?” Harry murmurs to his son before taking his hand and guiding him out of the room without a glance back.
YN just refolds the dish towel, not interested in continuing the argument , and sure as hell not letting it bother her - she just walks out the back door to be with her children outside, leaving Gemma alone.
That night, as Harry and YN shower the smoke from the campfire off of them, he cradles her bump and holds her stare, firmly telling her once again.
“I will always choose you. I will always choose our children.”
-
month seven; week twenty eight
YN accompanied Harry to Los Angeles for five days while Anne watched the children back at home - a little babymoon if you will.
However, it was proving a bit difficult to actually do anything they were looking forward to because of how big YN’s bump was getting.
“My thigh is cramping,” YN moans uncomfortably from where she’s lying on her back, Harry holding one of her legs bent near his chest but when he hears her complaint, he pulls out.
“You want to ride me?” Harry asks with little to no other suggestion because the bump was on the way in almost every position.
“You really think that I can lift myself up and down right now?” YN bites out with no real sharpness, she had sweat beading at her temples already and she was only one orgasm in from his mouth.
“I can just use my mouth again?” He suggests as he massages the muscles in her thigh that are twitching, YN felt bad because she could physically see how much he wanted it.
She wanted it too.
“No no, I want to,” YN puffs a stray hair off her forehead before she gets an idea, “Just spoon me from behind.”
Harry helps her lay down on her side before cozying up behind her - his lips teasing at the nape of her neck as he guides himself in, both of them moaning in relief when he begins to pump in and out.
“Yes,” YN mewls in relief as it starts to feel good, Harry moves to get his hand between her thighs to rub at her clit but the bump is in the way, “I can without it,” She assures him breathlessly as he kisses her shoulder and moves up to play with her swollen nipples instead.
“There we go,” Harry groans in pleasure as his forehead drops to her shoulder, she could tell he was trying to keep his pace steady but he was struggling, “God, you always feel so fuckin’ good f’me. No wonder I fuckin’ see you in my dreams, darling.”
It wasn’t the dirtiest thing out of his mouth ever but it was enough to release that band of tension in her lower stomach to make her find her second relief quickly.
As soon as she was taken care of, Harry was picking up the speed of his hips, even though she was sensitive, it still felt good to know that she was making her husband feel just as amazing as she did - she loved feeling his tensing ab muscles against her back, his thighs working right behind hers.
“S’good,” Harry grits out as he starts to finish, “Fuck, you always make me come so hard.”
After Harry pulls out, he grabs a cold washcloth from the bathroom before running it over YN’s overheated body, don’t get her wrong - the sex was phenomenal as always but with two babies only two months away from being born pressing on her insides, it took a lot more out of her.
“Baby,” Harry chuckles as he runs it over her forehead, “You should have told me it was too much. You’re still breathing heavy.”
“It felt so good though, H. Wanted it,” YN whines, wrapping her hand around his wrist and he gets the hint, running the cold over her skin once again.
“Maybe we should just stick to mouth stuff until the babies are born?” He suggests softly before patting her with a dry towel.
YN snorts out a laugh, “Mouth stuff? Are we in high school?”
“Heyy,” Harry huffs as he tries to stop a smile from appearing in his face, “M’just trying to be thoughtful and you’re making fun of me.”
YN pulls him down for another kiss, “I think you’re right though. I feel like I just ran a marathon and all I did was lay there and take it.”
“Yeah but you looked so fuckin’ sexy taking it,” Harry murmurs against her lips, his hand rubbing over her taut skin.
“Don’t need to charm me, already got six babies out of me,” YN jokes which now it’s Harry’s then to snort out a laugh.
“Never going to stop trying to charm you, mama,” Harry assures her as he lays back down next to her and yawns
-
eight months; 37 weeks
Dr. Riviera had informed them that twins typically didn’t make it past thirty-eight weeks, it wasn’t common, and that twins usually came out weighing a bit less because they had to share space and resources.
Even though the doctor can only predict, she didn’t see why YN would carry to thirty-eight weeks with how well the babies were developing and they didn’t seem to be wanting to move anytime soon.
Anne had been staying with them because she was going to help with the children for a little bit after the twins were born and she wanted to be there to watch them when YN went into labor.
Harry was in the city for a sponsorship meeting with Gatorade when his phone began to buzz in the middle of the meeting.
He didn’t care that he was being rude when everyone in the room was speaking to him but he just gets up out of his seat and leaves the room when he sees that his wife is calling.
“Mama, everything okay?” Harry asks nervously, ignoring the looks he’s getting from the men in suits as he exits the conference room into the empty corridor, making sure his car keys are in his pocket.
“Don’t sound so scared,” YN chuckles softly, sounding completely okay, “I just called to see what you were craving for dinner.”
False alarm.
-
That same night though, it wasn’t.
Harry and YN went to bed at a decent time after getting all the children down, probably around ten thirty when they drifted off after a long day in the city and with the kids.
It was when Harry woke up around two in the morning when YN shook him a bit, as he blinks his eyes open and turns on the bedside lamp - he realizes the sweat was gathering at YN”s brow and the vein in her forehead was popping.
“Ca-Can you help me get to the bathroom?” She panted, out of breath, “I think I’m going into labor. I need to pee. O-Oh fuck.”
Harry quickly jumps out of bed to help guide her to the bathroom before getting her back into the bedroom, “What do you want to do-“
Just as he asks, YN lets out a low groan and a splash of fluid trickles down her legs and onto the carpet - water breaking right as they speak, “H, they-they’re coming soon. Please, I think we need to go.”
Harry was shaking with nervousness as he loaded up the hospital bag, woke Anne to let her know what was going on, and they were off to have their twins in less than twenty minutes.
Harry was surprised just how quickly her labor was progressing, with the other four, it was a slower, more tedious process of hours and hours of dilation before there was any pushing.
But YN is gritting her teeth, tears streaking her cheeks as she tells Harry, “Please, baby. Drive as fast as you can. I-I need to push. I need to, they’re coming fast. I need to push.”
“Okay, okay,” Harry grips the wheel, he know he can’t drive in a way that could get them in an accident but he really didn’t want his wife to have the babies on the side of the road.
Luckily, the hospital wasn’t more than fifteen minutes away and he calls shakily ahead so that they know to expect them.
As soon as they have an IV hooked up, YN’s changed into a hospital gown, and in a hospital bed - they’re encouraging her to push, no time for an epidural which was proving hard for YN.
“It hurts so fucking bad,” YN cries as she squeezes Harry’s hand with all of her her might, it was moving fast and they hadn’t been in the hospital for more than half and hour and the doctor was telling them he expected the twins to come soon, “It hurts to push.”
Harry has the utmost respect for his wife. He can’t possibly even begin to imagine the tremoundous pain that she’s agreed to put herself through so that they could have more children.
He’s already a sniffling mess when the doctor announces that she’s crowning.
“Mama, they have so much hair,” Harry chuckles as he looks to see, moving to kiss her hand, “You’re so close. I can’t wait to see what we’re having. A boy or a girl. You’re doing so good, baby.”
“One more push,” The nurse encourages and YN is squeezing her eyes shut and groaning as she uses all of her might to give a long, hard push.
Harry’s so distracted by watching YN that he doesn’t even realize that push had been enough for their baby to come out, only realizing that one had been born when a high-pitched cry pierces the room.
“Baby number one is a boy,” The doctor announces before the nurses are working on cleaning off the baby and doing all their routine tests.
“A boy,” YN says breathlessly, blinking tearfully at Harry, “Wa-wait, I need to push again. Will the other one come just as fast?” YN directs the question at the medical staff.
“Typically they come out without minutes of each other,” The nurse smiles as she wipes YN’s forehead with a cold rag.
“Gonna give us our other baby?” Harry murmurs distractedly, he was watching as they put the baby on the scale before rubbing it off with a clean towel to get off the fluid - he was memorized until he was snapped back when YN is howling out another grunt of effort before the second piercing cry of the night echos through the room.
“Baby number two is also a boy,” The doctor calls out before passing off the other baby, “Good job, mom. Really got those babies out fast and with no pain medication, very impressive.”
YN’s exhausted as she tries to catch her breath, “Two boys, H. Two boys.”
Is anyone surprised that Harry is full on sobbing happy tears by the time that the babies are laid on YN’s chest where she cradles them closely, tears streaming down her cheeks as well.
“Two more boys. Five boys and one girl,” YN giggles happily as she leans down to nuzzle her nose against each one of their cheeks as Harry caresses YN’s hair and watches on in awe.
“You did such an amazing job,” Harry sniffles as he leans up to kiss YN’s temple, “I am so proud of you. Look at what you did, mama. Gave us two healthy boys, you did it.”
“Mmm,” YN hums tiredly, chuckling when one starts rooting which Harry helps adjust her gown to help the baby find what it was looking for, “And they’re latching with no issues. This is perfect.”
“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” Harry says firmly as he can’t get his heartbeat to slow, “And you gave us two more perfect babies.”
“I love them so much already,” YN whispers as she watches the baby eat hungrily with the cutest little coos as they can barely keep their eyes open, “Teddy Reese and Scout Hudson.”
“Our little Teddy and Scout,” Harry repeats in disbelief of his life, of how he couldn’t ask for anything better, “Welcome to the family.”
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