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outerbankies · 3 years

Note

You know how teenager rafe is gonna just be spiralling over reader going to prom with someone else? I’m going to cry cause like he’s a baby and he doesn’t know why he has these feeling for this one person that he’s always kind of orbited around?? And he knows she’s it for him but only deep down cause he’s trying to figure so much out and how could you know who you’re going to end up with at the age of 17 let alone 10 or 12 but he’s always known and aaaaah imagine that kind of love

an angsty little pre-series prom blurb partially inspired by this ^ ask that made me spiralll. thanks anon i hope u like this!

—

new light blurb: before we knew — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

obv takes place pre-series in high school! referenced in part 1

warnings: underage drinking

“Top, it’s not fucking funny.”

“It’s kinda fucking funny, Y/n/n. Like, way more than a little.”

Rafe had ditched the last fifteen minutes of statistics when he finished his test early today, and he’d been messing around on his phone for ten minutes waiting for the rest of you to come and get in Topper’s Jeep so you could all go to lunch off-campus today.

Rafe stands up straight from where he’d been leaning against the hood when he hears your voice approaching, his smile matching yours once you see him. “Hey, Rafe. How did your stats test go?”

“Good, hey, Y/n. What’s not funny?” he asks, opening the passenger side door for you before sliding into the backseat behind you.

“Oh, get this, Rafe,” Topper says, laughing. You just groan again, clicking your seatbelt on. “Griffin is gonna ask Y/n to prom. Tomorrow.”

Rafe blanches. “Griffin?”

He knew Griffin thought you were hot. Certainly had to hear it enough times in the pool at practice every day. Rafe always found himself biting back a remark—well, almost always. As captain, Rafe was able to tell everyone to run another play whenever he felt like it. The extra exertion in the pool was nothing compared to having to tread water and hear his teammate talk about you like that.

But even after all of that, he still had no idea Griffin had the balls to actually make a move on you. Because Rafe could tell you’d seriously rather die than ever give Griffin the time of day. And Griffin had been pursuing you without luck for months, even though you’d been trying to gently show you weren’t interested. Half of the time, Rafe wished you'd just tell him to fuck off.

The other half of the time, Rafe was considering just doing it for you.

Rafe clears his throat after his outburst, a finger digging into a hole in his jeans. “How do you know?”

“He just told me in PE,” Topper says. “He said he has this huge banner, and speakers, and he’s gonna do it at lunch right in the middle of the quad—”

“Topper.” You cut him off a bit more seriously this time; Rafe can hear the shift in your tone. You've always hated being anywhere close to the center of attention, getting embarrassed by the smallest things others wouldn’t even think about. If Griffin actually knew anything about you the way Rafe does, he’d know you wouldn’t like something big and flashy. “Can you stop?”

“Hey, cut it out, Top,” Rafe is saying immediately. Topper just rolls his eyes, but Rafe doesn’t care. “You okay?”

“Yeah, Rafe,” you say, smiling over your shoulder at him. “M’fine.”

“Do you want me to tell Griffin to—”

Topper laughs from the driver’s seat, clearing his throat to cover it up when you look over at him. You look back at Rafe, and his heart breaks at the worry in your face. “Don’t, Rafe.”

“Are you gonna say yes?”

“No,” you immediately laugh, looking at him like the idea is preposterous.

“Oh c’mon, Y/n/n. Can’t say no to him in front of all those people,” Topper teases. “And where the fuck is Kelce? I’m starving.”

“You’re right,” you sigh. “I don’t wanna embarrass him. I’ll just find him after school today and tell him I’m going with Kelce.”

Topper’s eyes widen, Rafe catches it in the rearview mirror before he hurriedly looks away. Rafe clears his throat, settling back into his seat from where he’d been leaning into the front space to talk with you. “You—uh, are you actually going with Kelce?”

“Yeah,” you nod, distracted by your phone. “We said we’d go together if we didn’t find dates. Kelce didn’t really wanna ask anyone after what happened last summer. And after nearly being set up with Top last night, I’m about ready to throw in the towel.“

Rafe looks to his friend that sits in the driver’s seat, who's looking straight at his lap, the back of his neck bright red. “Wait, you two?”

“It was just our parents, dude. Went to dinner at the club last night and our moms brought it up,” Topper mumbles. You giggle at the idea, completely unaware of the energy in the car right now.

“Yeah, sorry, Thornton. But no thanks. You and Emily should be really cute, though,” you say earnestly, patting his shoulder.

Topper just stares straight ahead. “Thanks, Y/n/n.”

“And then this thing with Griffin—I’m just so over the idea of finding an actual date at this point,” you sigh. “Plus, I know Kelce won’t put up a fight about the color scheme. I’m thinking like, aqua. Or maybe pink? I don't think I'd look good in gold.”

You'll look good in absolutely anything, and Rafe will just have to watch you from across the floor of the Island Club, while Kelce twirls you around the dance floor or holds you close during a slow dance.

The guy in question opens the car door and slides into the backseat next to Rafe right then, sighing as he slides his backpack off. “Sorry guys, coach stopped me in the hall. Where are we eating?”

Rafe glares at him.

“I want a smoothie,” you declare from the front seat.

“Fine with me,” Topper nods, pulling out of his parking spot. “Guys?”

“Can we go to that place with the deli next door? I’m so hungry,” Kelce says.

“Yeah, I like their açaí bowls,” you say, twisting around to look at Rafe one more time. He must not be able to hide his emotions as much as he thought, because your smile drops when you see him. “Rafe? Does that sound good?”

He turns his body to look out the window, eyes flicking back to yours one last time. “Not hungry.”

—

Rafe meets Topper and Kelce at the dock later that night, the three of them intending to get drunk and maybe take Topper’s boat out if they felt like it.

Kelce is already there by the time Rafe pulls up, drinking a beer with Topper while they laugh at something on his phone.

And Rafe paces right down the dock, snatches Kelce’s phone out of his hand, and pushes him off the platform and into the water.

“Rafe, dude,” Topper says, immediately pushing him back by his chest.

“What the fuck?” Kelce sputters, spitting out water as he surfaces and climbs the ladder back up. “What is your fucking problem?”

“You couldn’t ask literally fucking anyone else? It had to be Y/n?” Rafe says, laughing indignantly. He looks down at where Topper is still keeping them separated. “And you—what the fuck—”

“I told you, man. It was just our moms. We didn’t even consider it,” Topper says, rolling his eyes.

“You both lied to me,” Rafe accuses. “Because you knew I’d be mad.”

“And why’s that, Rafe?” Kelce spits, reaching around Topper to try and push at his chest. “Why are you mad? Not like you were gonna ask her.”

“No,” Rafe says immediately. And he isn’t even lying; it’d never crossed his mind as a possibility. Which is why he can’t even begin to try and work out why he’s this upset about it. He didn’t do anything to stop this, but it’s still happening, and it’s making him crazy. “You know my dad’s making me take Reagan since we’re both on prom court.”

“That’s what I thought,” Kelce grumbles. “I was gonna tell you.”

“When?”

“Soon, I just—we made the plan so long ago, bro. Neither of us wanted to worry about dates… but I gave it time because I thought you might—I dunno,” Kelce trails off, shrugging. “I dunno.”

“Thought I might what?”

“Figure your shit out and ask her yourself,” Topper says, coming back from the boathouse with a towel that he passes to Kelce.

“Even if I could, Y/n/n would never say yes to me,” Rafe scoffs, shaking his head and reaching for the six-pack they were working through.

Topper scoffs back. “Oh, yeah ri—”

“Guess we’ll never know,” Kelce says, cutting him off while he dumps the water out of his shoes. He sighs at his soaked clothes before he looks back up at Rafe. “You know I’m not into her right? We’re just going as friends. It’s senior prom.”

“Why would I care what you’re going as?” Rafe says, shifting in discomfort, hand clutching his already-half-empty beer can a little tighter. “None of it even matters.”

“Whatever you wanna tell yourself, bro,” Kelce sighs, grabbing his phone out of Rafe’s hand and pushing past him to go change.

—

“Nice taste, Y/l/n.”

You whirl around from where you’d been adjusting Kelce’s boutonnière (you’d only pricked him twice, which was a personal record for you) at the sound of Rafe’s voice, plastering on a smile before you face him. Your eyes drop to his attire immediately. “Oh shit, Rafe. We match.”

“I know,” he laughs. “My step-mom wants a picture.”

You furrow your eyebrows, shifting in your heels, the tule of your dress suddenly itchy against your legs. “Um. Shouldn’t you take one with Reagan?”

“We already took a million. From every angle. With every possible fucking pose,” Rafe sighs. “C’mon, please? Before the limo comes.”

Rafe grabs your hand and you look back at Kelce who just nods, downing some champagne. “Take care of my date, Cameron.”

You can see Rafe just shake his head where you trail behind him, leading you back to where Rose is talking to one of the other moms. “There you are. Your dress is beautiful! I wish we'd found one like that for Reagan. It looks great with Rafe's tuxedo.”

“Uh, yeah. It's nice to see you, Mrs. Cameron,” you say politely, ignoring the last half of what she said completely. She pulls up her phone and Rafe’s bringing you into his side, his hand resting in the middle of your back.

“This okay?” he murmurs, his breath fanning over your neck as he leans down.

“Yep,” you say quickly, but you can’t help but look around and catch multiple of your friends watching you, including Reagan, who promptly rolls her eyes once you make eye contact with her.

“Y/n, sweetie, just a few pictures for the newsletter,” Rose says, reminding you of your purpose right now.

“Right, sorry,” you say.

“Hey,” Rafe whispers. You look up at him, feeling his hand bring you closer to his body. “Take this a little more seriously, Y/l/n. Don’t you know that the next issue of the Island Club newsletter will be completely ruined without this one specific photo, that will probably be squished into the corner of a terribly- edited collage?”

You laugh in surprise, hitting him on his chest for joking about his step-mom right in front of her. “Rafe. Be nice.”

He just grins down at you, before straightening up and turning back to the camera. “If I’m nice, will you save a dance for me later tonight?”

You’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore, because then he’d see the way your smile faltered before you turn back to the camera as well. “Sure.”

—

“How is my flask empty?” Kelce groans, tipping it over and shaking it out for emphasis.

“That’s what happens when you drink it all, bud,” you laugh, patting his shoulder. He rolls his eyes at you, linking his arm in yours as you both pass through the crowd to find Topper and his date, Emily. You all watch Rafe up on stage, waiting to inevitably be crowned prom king.

He was a shoo-in anyway, but you’d definitely distracted your English teacher with a conversation about the 1984 essay you just turned in while Topper and Kelce stuffed the ballot box he was meant to be guarding.

Rafe seemed like he couldn’t care less about stuff like prom court, just shaking his head when his name was announced over the speaker as a nominee three weeks ago at lunch.

And he’d dragged his feet through finding a date, just shrugging whenever you brought it up to him, prying partially for your own sake.

You couldn’t figure out why he seemed so averse to the entire event, but you supposed that was better than having to hear him go on and on about Reagan and how he asked her and what corsage he bought for her and if he was bringing her to after-prom—or anything else that would’ve dragged up some feelings you thought you’d firmly buried at this point, telling yourself for years that you never stood a chance with Rafe.

But the closer graduation got, the more you’ve been realizing that things with your friends would never be the same. Things with Rafe would never be the same.

“Kildare Academy, your prom king is Rafe Cameron,” the DJ says, snapping you out of your thoughts. Kelce and Topper cheer obnoxiously while you laugh, a little grateful they’re both drunk and distracted—so happy their plan worked (Rafe subtly flips them off behind his back as he’s crowned) that they can’t notice the way your shoulders slump as Rafe leads Reagan, just crowned queen, out to the middle of the dance floor while some Ed Sheeran song starts playing through the speakers. You’d roll your eyes at the terrible music selection if that was what you could focus on.

All you could focus on was wondering if Rafe would even remember that you promised him a dance tonight.

Kelce is dramatically bringing you into his arms as the prom court dance takes place, subtly turning you around so your back faces the stage and the court, smiling as he holds your waist. “C’mon, dance with me.”

—

Rafe’s letting go of Reagan as soon as the song ends and everybody cheers, dashing off to the DJ booth after telling her he’d be back in a bit. She merely shrugged before adjusting her crown and going off to some friends.

“Hey man, can I pull some prom king privilege right now?” he says, leaning in to speak into the guys’ ear. “I have a song request.”

“Playlist is set, approved by the school,” he says dismissively.

“Thought you might say that,” Rafe grumbles, reaching into his breast pocket before he can take the time to wonder if he’s really going to do this—if he’s really going to bribe the DJ to play a song by your favorite band before he goes to cash in on that dance together that you’d promised.

He hands him a crisp hundred.

The DJ sighs, snatching it out of his hand and pocketing it while Rafe smirks in victory. “Alright, what song, country club?”

And then it's practically a race to find you before the Kid Cudi remix currently playing ends. Rafe heads off in the direction where Topper and Kelce had been yelling when he was on stage, evening his pace when he spots you jumping around with Kelce, your dress fanning around you while you laugh, the string lights illuminating your face.

You’re smiling so big that it stops Rafe in his tracks.

Guys had always shown interest in you, and you turned most of them down. Not all of them; Rafe still had to see you with guys who absolutely did not deserve you giving them the time of day, sometimes at parties or maybe at the Club. Rafe could usually lie to himself, write off these feelings as some protectiveness over you, a nice girl who’d been a good friend to him his entire life. Rafe was protective of all the people he held close in his life, why wouldn’t he look out for you, too?

But something must have changed, because now—now Rafe’s looking at you, and he knows time is running out before you both set off on your futures. He has three weeks of school left with you, then a summer of seeing you around. And then... that's it.

And now he’s looking at you, those feelings less and less ignorable with every single second closer Rafe gets to not having you around him every day anymore.

Those feelings are crowding every corner of his mind, finally coming to the surface after all of the drama with prom dates had forced Rafe to wonder why he couldn’t stand you going with Griffin or Topper or Kelce. Couldn’t stand thinking about you ever being with someone that wasn’t him—a reality he knows he’d have to get used to you a lot quicker than it took him to even realize he’d fallen for you.

Because the future’s coming, and maybe in the future you actually end up with someone like Griffin, or Mateo, or that guy from the party that one time, or that touron from New England that your parents tried to set you up with, some hotshot you brought home from California after a semester, or Kelce—even Topper. Your parents would love that one. And one day in this future, you’re running into Rafe on the soccer field; your kids play for the same team together. Rafe ended up settling for someone he could never like half as much as he loved you, and he sees you across the field with a sweater tied around your shoulders, chatting with all of the other moms. The lucky asshole you finally chose just watches you the way Rafe always had, the way he is now as you dance with his best friend, the way Rafe will probably never be able to stop himself from doing.

Or maybe there's another future without you, where you move away to somewhere that suits you; the Outer Banks had never good enough for you, in his mind. Maybe you stay in California after school. And you bring home that hotshot that’s perfectly matched for you, who gets to hold you and kiss you and have you. Rafe only gets to see you every once in a while, when you decide to grace the Outer Banks with your presence for the holidays or for Midsummers. Maybe in this scenario, Rafe was never able to find someone else, maybe he shows up solo while you flash your engagement ring when the old crew gets together for drinks—no, you wouldn’t do that. You’d be absolutely smitten with whoever won your heart, showing the ring he got you to your girl friends with an embarrassed little smile pulling at your lips while they all gush over it. And maybe one of your friends jokes about how Rafe used to have a crush on you. You'll just laugh and shrug it off, nodding—because you knew all along. Of course you knew, everyone had to know at this point. And Rafe can picture you merely laughing at his feelings for you as the other guy gets to pull you closer on his lap.

The opening chords of your song snap him out of his reverie. He can see the exact moment you realize what song it is.

Rafe beelines for you, holding his hand out as soon as he’s in your vicinity, fully pretending he hadn’t just realized he’s fallen for one of his closest friends in the middle of prom. Like he hadn't realized that he wasn't just into you, didn't just think you were cute or like the way you made him feel when you remembered his stats tests or wore his shirt to his water polo games. Like he hadn't just realized that no matter how many times he'd told himself it didn't bother him that much that you'd never come close to giving him the time of day, that he'd never forget what it felt like to not even be on your radar.

“You promised me a dance, Y/n.”

You look at him and his outstretched hand and smile, then look back to Kelce, who's quickly letting you out of his arms, casting an accusatory glance at Rafe. But then he smiles a little. “I'm gonna hit the restrooms.”

“Too bad our one dance is gonna be to a song by a band you hate,” you laugh, accepting Rafe's hand. Rafe’s on autopilot, his hands resting on your lower back while yours move to his chest, swaying the two of you in little circles. The song is already through with the first verse.

“I don’t hate this band,” he lies. But maybe it’s not a lie—how could he hate anything you loved?

“Okay, prom king,” you laugh, fiddling with his pocket square a little, the one that matches your dress. “Still can’t believe we ended up matching.”

“Great minds, Y/l/n,” he shrugs, eyes trained on your face. Your hands slip up around his shoulders, and you nudge the plastic crown on his head before leaving your arms to rest there, fingers locked behind his neck. Rafe pulls you closer. The second chorus was already starting up. Time was running out.

“I’m not sure what the optics are of our matching and you leaving the prom queen to come dance with your friend,” you say, your small smile turning into a frown. “Reagan already seemed pissed earlier.”

“Don’t worry about her,” Rafe says. “It’s just you and me right now.”

“When we go off to college, I think I might just miss you, Cameron,” you say, smiling.

And Rafe might not ever get to tell you how he feels, or ever be with you the way he wants to, but at least he got to dance with you at his senior prom.

“I know I'm gonna miss you.”

—

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

The Hell he’s been through;

The Knights have no clue of the suffering Merlin has endured… until one day, they do.

TW: Scars, panic attacks, nightmares, PTSD except they don’t have a word for that, non-graphic description of scars/injuries

Part 2(final part)

It was the height of summer, the bright blue sky was utterly free of clouds and the noon sun beat viciously down onto the training field.

Only the central six knights, their King, and Merlin braved the exhausting heat, the other knights had chosen to train later in the day, when it was cooler, so the field was empty of anyone else. Merlin was sat cross-legged in the shade of a tree, jacket and neckerchief removed (not that Arth- anyone noticed. Definitely not.), though his sleeves were still pulled low over his wrists and his tunic was fastened high up his neck. Despite that, the lack of an extra layer definitely displayed Merlin’s surprisingly broad shoulders more than normal (another thing that Ar-no one noticed).

The knights were shirtless, despite Merlin’s warning of sunburn, sparring semi-playfully with wooden dummy swords, the type squires train with, and no armour.

Merlin rubs absent-mindedly at the dull, almost gone ache in his ribs, just below his armpit, as he rolls his shoulder. The injury, if it could even be called that, had never been serious and hadn’t even hurt that much when he’d gotten it on the last patrol (a stray mace swing from a bandit just clipped him), at least, not compared to other injuries he’s sustained over the years, but it was an annoyance that made his shoulder stiff on occasion.

Unfortunately, the movement caught Arthur’s eye, and the King frowns, stopping his observation of Elyan and Mordred’s spar to lay a crudely hidden concerned gaze upon his manservant.

He’d fussed endlessly when he found that Merlin had bandaged his own torso after the fight, demanding that he let someone help next time; Merlin just rolled his eyes at that. The other knights had wisely chosen not to comment, knowing that the attack, and Merlin’s subsequent injury, had already put Arthur in a bad enough mood; though admittedly, the only thing stopping Gwaine from ruthlessly taking the piss out of Arthur’s mother-hen tendencies all the way home was Percival harshly clamping a hand over his mouth and pushing him away.

Merlin looks up to see Arthur staring at him, and the King quickly covers his concern with a look of annoyance when the manservant raises an eyebrow:

“If you’re not going to do anything useful Merlin, get up here, you clearly can’t be trusted to even cower effectively, so you’re going to have to learn to defend yourself.”

Merlin’s eyebrow just rises higher as the rest of the knights’ attention is drawn to the conversation. Lancelot and Mordred hide knowing smiles, well aware than Merlin was more than capable of defending himself, if he really needed to. Gwaine went to open his mouth with teasing grin, though quickly pouts when Percival punches him on the shoulder, and Leon and Elyan smirk at each other before moving their amused gazes to Arthur.

When Merlin doesn’t move, just stares at him disbelievingly, Arthur rolls his eyes and gestures at the half-empty rack of wooden swords:

“Come on, Merlin, up on your feet, grab a sword.”

Merlin just snorts in amusement and shakes his head, settling back against the tree trunk even more:

“Absolutely not. I can handle myself just fine, thank you very much.”

The knights (bar Lancelot and Mordred of course) raise their own eyebrows. Gwaine snorts out loud, stepping up next to Arthur and dropping an overly-friendly hand on his shoulder, much to The King’s displeasure:

“I know you can hold your own in a tavern brawl Merls, but that’s not the same thing as facing bandits and assassins and shit. Princess is right, it might be worth it for you to at least know how to use a sword.”

Arthur turns an accusing gaze on Gwaine, shrugging his hand off as he says:

“And I presume all the tavern brawls Merlin has apparently been getting into are your fault?”

Gwaine grimaces slightly before shrugging with a smirk, and Merlin hides his laughter with a cough before inserting:

“Entirely his fault. Gwaine starts the fights, promptly passes out, and I have to finish them.”

Arthur laughs incredulously; Mordred has to hide the angry clench of his jaw and Lancelot has to hide his sorrow when Arthur replies in a taunting tone:

“I’m meant to believe that you are regularly winning Gwaine’s unfinished fights, am I?”

Merlin shrugs in mock defeat, a grin on his face:

“Believe what you want, Sire, I’ve faced worse than you lot and come out singing, I don’t need training.”

Arthur resists the urge to smirk at the appealing way Merlin manages to make his title sound insulting, and he instead raises his eyebrows:

“You’re not getting out of this, Merlin. I can’t have you bruising yourself every time we leave the city.”

Merlin takes in a deep breath, settling a disconcertingly assessing gaze on The King for a few moments before he sighs and stands up, walking towards the equipment and picking up a sword before turning back to Arthur:

“I suppose you’re right, I doubt any of the other servants would be willing to put up with you if I got too injured. Who would you like me to spar, My Lord?”

Arthur scoffs and shakes his head as the others step back, looking upon the whole scene with fond amusement, bar, once again, Lancelot and Mordred, who are looking an odd mix between concerned and proud. They know that Merlin is capable of more than he lets on, even with a wooden blade.

“You can’t spar with any of us, Merlin, that would be far too dangerous. We’ll start with some basic moves, and then maybe we can move on to a slow, choreographed spar.”

Merlin twirls the sword expertly in his hand, and he’s vaguely away of Gwaine nodding approvingly and Leon raising an eyebrow out the corner of his eye, though he pays them no mind, raising an eyebrow of his own at Arthur:

“Surely starting with a simple spar will tell you my exact skill levels so you can tailor the lessons? You need to know how crap I am before we start.”

Lancelot hides a snort behind a hand, knowing full well that Merlin is just trying to goad Arthur into letting the servant show off his skills without too much effort beforehand. Or without giving Arthur the satisfaction of thinking that he was the one who taught Merlin how to fight. Thankfully, Arthur takes Lance’s snort as a teasing one aimed at Merlin, as opposed to what it really is, so waves him into the ring with a smirk.

Merlin just rolls his eyes, moving to stand opposite his best friend and muttering, just loud enough for everyone to hear:

“Fine, but I’m not taking my shirt off, I’m not as arrogant as you lot.”

Lancelot widens his eyes as Arthur freezes, dread growing in his stomach at the knowledge that The King would take that as a challenge. Arthur turns slowly, a shit-eating grin on his face, and Lancelot grimaces as Arthur claps his hands together:

“Right! I wasn’t going to mention it, but you do have a point, Merlin, if you are to train, you must train as one of us. Come on, tunic off.”

Elyan, Percival, and Gwaine just laugh, but Leon rolls his eyes exasperatedly, and Mordred and Lancelot frown in concern. Neither of them have seen Merlin’s scars in their entirety before, but knowing about the servant’s secret second life had definitely made them more observant than the others, and they had seen hints of old injuries here and there. That’s not even mentioning the times he’s shown up in their chambers, bloody and bruised and in need of treatment, but not wanting to worry Gaius.

Merlin just flushed and stared at him indignantly and Arthur’s teasing grin grew:

“Don’t be shy, Merlin, I’m sure whatever horrific mole or ugly birth mark you’re ashamed of isn’t that bad.”

Merlin rolls his eyes, stepping away from Arthur when he moves towards him. The demand to de-robe, even partially, had immediately put him on edge, and he had gone from playfully annoyed to genuinely irate in a split second. He crosses his arms over his chest protectively when Arthur gestures at him demandingly:

“I don’t have a weird mole, Arthur, you Clotpole, but unlike you lot, I’m not all that keen to show off my old scars.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. Merlin was hoping that mentioning his scars in passing would appeal to the knights’ warrior sides, would make them sympathetic to his… shy-ness. It did not. It just made them laugh, even Leon, and they all began to point out various scars they had on their chests and back, remarking that he couldn’t have worse than them.

Gwaine twisted to the side, patting a pink, jagged circle halfway down his back, a grin on his face:

“This beauty is from when I propositioned a lovely fella who was, apparently, already taken. Man’s wife smashed her bottle on the counter and damn near took my eye out with it.”

Elyan cackles at Gwaine’s story, pointing to a perfectly square burn on his shoulder-blade:

“Yeah, well at least you didn’t fall back into a red hot brand at the ripe old age of fifteen because a girl smiled at you.”

Merlin’s back-up plan, which was sneakily sulking off whilst the knights compared their most embarrassing scars, was cut short basically immediately when he heard Arthur yell out:

“Absolutely not, Merlin, I’ve already told you that you’re not getting out of this. Tunic off, spar Lancelot.”

Merlin huffs, annoyed, feeling rather like he was backed into a corner, and Mordred walks forward, to be between him and The King, quietly saying:

“You don’t have to Merlin, just fight with it on.”

Arthur narrows his eyes in suspicion, but before he can say anything, Merlin squares his shoulders and looks at him defiantly, dropping his sword to the floor as he begins unlacing his tunic, his words coming out harshly, his tone dark:

“No, no it’s fine. The King wants to see my scars, and we all know that The King gets whatever he wants.”

The smiles melt rather quickly off the knights’ faces as Merlin speaks, and Arthur flinches slightly at his tone, starting to realise with just a little guilt that maybe this wasn’t funny anymore. He opens his mouth to take it back, to tell Merlin that he was only teasing and he could keep the tunic on if he really wanted to, but before any words come out, Merlin is gripping the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head swiftly and screwing it up before tossing it to the side, not once breaking his stare on the now pale King.

Arthur lets out a sharp breath at the patchwork of scars that cover Merlin’s chest, and he’s vaguely aware of the various low cries and gasps of outrage coming from the knights behind him. There are so many, some are large and some are small, some look to be from clumsiness, but others look like they should have been fatal. Arthur’s eyes can’t focus on just one, he’s barely taking in each scar before his gaze is drawn to another, and then another, and then another; it’s a little overwhelming, and it’s only when he starts to feel a little woozy that he remembers to breath.

When he finally comes to the conclusion that his brain isn’t going to able to process this for a while, he looks up to Merlin’s face, instead taking in his resolute expression and hard eyes:

“Merlin, what… what happened to you?”

Merlin raises a slow, mocking eyebrow before breaking his statue-like stillness and picking his sword up again, turning to face a distraught looking Lancelot. This movement only reveals the second mosaic of scars covering his back, but he speaks over the next round of gasps and muffled curses, his tone still unbearably dark as he gestures Lance to get into position:

“I told you, I’ve faced worse than you lot and come out singing.”

The knights are so distracted by the myriad of scars covering Merlin’s torso that it takes the servant’s first harsh, well-aimed blow with his sword to break them out of their stupor. They watch the ensuing spar with morbid fascination, finding that not only can Merlin hold his own, he’s winning. Lancelot loses his breath and rhythm much quicker than Merlin does, and the fast-paced spar only lasts around three minutes before Merlin lands a strong punch to the centre of Lance’s chest and the knight stumbles back in shock, lowering his sword just enough for Merlin to step forward and trip him up.

The scarred servant’s chest rises and falls deeply, but not too rapidly as he lowers his sword and offers a hand down to the beaten knight. Lancelot takes it with a slightly shocked smile, patting Merlin on the shoulder as he stands. Merlin flinches away from the touch, no one misses it, clearly not too fond of people touching his bare skin, and Lance drops his hand rapidly, frowning only briefly before he smiles again:

“Bloody hell, Merlin. I knew you were good, but not that good.”

Merlin gives him a strained smile, grateful for the distraction. Everyone sees the moment Merlin’s mask goes up again; he gives Lance a smug grin and twirls his sword once again as he shrugs mockingly:

“I’ve been watching you lot train for ten years, and I’ve been in a few sword fights in my time. I picked up a few things.”

Arthur finally reacts, scoffing as he shakes his head in disbelief, scars momentarily forgotten:

“There’s no way that you can- that was a fluke.-”

He looks smug as he says it, like he’s figured out some great secret, and Mordred lets out a low, annoyed growl; no one notices thankfully, but Merlin shoots him a quick frustrated line across their mental link:

“Please try not to antagonise him any further.”

Mordred looks to him, keeping his face blank as he nods almost imperceptibly. Lancelot and Gwaine look openly disapproving of Arthur’s assertion, but Leon, Percival, and Elyan look almost convinced. Arthur nods decisively, picking up his sword once again and waving it in Merlin’s direction:

“-My turn. And once I’ve beaten you, you’re going to tell us about all of… that.”

Merlin’s eye twitches, but he doesn’t say anything, just nods slightly as he holds a placating hand out in Lancelot’s direction when it becomes obvious that his best friend is going to start trying to defend him.

Arthur takes Lancelot’s place in the ring and Merlin grips his sword tightly, his shoulders tense and his face showing only mild annoyance, despite the anger that Lancelot and Mordred were sure was simmering under his façade. At Arthur’s nod, Leon reluctantly counts them in, and the match begins.

This one is somehow even more fast-paced, though no one is surprised. The last ten minutes had caught Arthur extremely off-guard. An off-guard Arthur is a grumpy Arthur, and a grumpy Arthur is, unfortunately, still the type to take his frustrations out on others. Arthur wasn’t good at dealing with his emotions, meaning the disturbing mix of horror, guilt, and anger at Merlin’s scars, slight… shock, (because he refuses to call it anything else) at his deceptively strong physique, and surprise that apparently his servant can take out one of his best knights without all that much effort, all together have The King bursting with adrenaline.

He throws blow after blow, but Merlin’s defence is incredibly strong, and Arthur has yet to land a hit anywhere other than the opposing sword. After a couple of minutes, Merlin switches styles, and Arthur almost trips when he realises his servant has, in the space of a second, gone from fighting like Arthur, to fighting like Leon. The knights notice it as well; Gwaine lets out a low whistle and Elyan smacks Leon on the shoulder, pointing incredulously at a sequence of complicated footwork that usually only the First Knight can manage so gracefully. Apparently Merlin can do it too.

Arthur adapts to this quickly; Leon was his sparring partner most often, meaning that he was accustomed to switching between their styles, and they were the most similar fighters in all the group.

Another minute passes, and the pair still don’t slow, seemingly unbothered by their dumbfounded audience and the sweltering heat, and this time Merlin suddenly starts fighting more like Gwaine. Instead of staying on the defensive and trying to trip Arthur up, he goes on the attack, landing heavier and heavier hits as The King barely manages to defend himself in time.

Merlin is quickly growing tired, his stamina not nearly as good as Arthur’s, but The King grows complacent, even with the vicious pace, certain that he just has to wait Merlin out. He was wrong. Arthur finally gets an attack of his own in but Merlin dives to the side instead of blocking it, rolling and coming up to Arthur’s left before the blonde has time to regain his balance and turn around. He freezes in place when Merlin touches his wooden sword to the side of Arthur’s neck. He can feel it shaking, but it’s undoubtedly a killing blow, and when Merlin drops the sword to the floor in favour of bending over, one hand on his knee and the other on his side again as he pants, Arthur turns around faster than he thinks he’s ever moved before:

“How the fuck did you do that?”

Merlin is vaguely aware of the knights all clapping and shouting encouragement at him, but he doesn’t look up, just waves dismissively in Arthur’s direction:

“I told you, I’ve been watching you lot train for years. It’s easy to imitate you after a little practice.”

Arthur just stares at him in disbelief, but Leon hands the servant a water-skin, ripping his gaze from the whip marks on his back with clenched teeth before schooling his tone and face into something more friendly:

“Merlin, you switched styles twice in as many minutes… you beat the best swordsman in the Kingdom after already being tired from another spar, that’s… that’s incredible.”

Merlin drinks the entire skin as Leon speaks, looking up with another playful mask on his face:

“Well believe me, I’m so sore I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do it again.”

Merlin’s smile drops when he realises everyone is back to staring at him, more specifically, his scars. He steps away from the curly-haired knight, who furrows his brows in concern and resists the urge to reach a comforting hand out to him. Merlin crosses his arms over his chest defensively, hunching his broad shoulders slightly as he frowns at the floor.

Lancelot quickly throws his tunic to him, and Merlin scrambles to pull it on as quickly as possible, but before he can even get his arms through the right holes, Arthur snatches it away, a stern, angry look on his face. Though every one of then can see the badly hidden concern as well:

“No, you agreed to tell us.”

Merlin makes a move for his tunic, but Arthur jumps out of his reach. The servant huffs, annoyed and close to tears all of a sudden as he petulantly replies:

“Actually, you said once you beat me, I had to tell you. I won.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow, taking another step back:

“I’m happy to go another round if you are, Merlin?”

Merlin glares at him angrily for another few moments before completely sagging, staring at the floor with sad, tired eyes as his arms drop to dangle at his sides. Arthur and the knights are completely taken aback at Merlin’s sudden change of disposition, though it heartbreakingly strikes them as less of a change and more of a... reveal. A reveal of some kind of sadness that’s been there all along. How did they not notice this??

Arthur’s breath hitches and his tight clutch on Merlin’s tunic loosens slightly as he all but whispers:

“Merlin... who did this to you?”

Merlin finally looks up at him, letting out a humourless chuckle as he rakes a hand through his sweat-dampened hair roughly:

“Does it matter? Most of them are dead, I-”

His eyes narrow and his voice lowers. The knights hear it nonetheless:

“... I made sure of that .”

Arthur lets out a huff of frustration, not bothering to hide the desperation in his eyes as he pleads:

“Please, Merlin, you’re my... subject, you’re meant to be under my protection. And don’t lie, none of these are more than eleven or twelve years old at most and you got here ten years ago, so they happened in Camelot, under my watch. Please, Merlin.”

Merlin sighs, walking towards the tree’s shade once again. For a moment Arthur panics, thinking he’d pushed Merlin too far as he turned away, knowing that if this conversation wasn’t had now, their relationship would never be the same. But before The King can say anything, the servant slumps back into place against the tree trunk, sitting cross-legged again and biting his lip as he looks at Arthur expectantly.

Before anyone else can move, Mordred and Lancelot take the places either side of Merlin, sitting protectively close. Lance gives Mordred a pointed look, to which the younger knight nods before settling a blank expression on the side of Merlin’s head. Merlin doesn’t look back at him, but pats the knight’s knee as the corner of his mouth turns up briefly in a barely-there smile.

Arthur narrows his eyes, but stores that odd exchange in the back of his mind to deal with at a later date before sitting across from Merlin; the other knights look to each other, worried, before settling in the empty spaces to complete the circle. The group is silent for a while, all staring at a statue-still Merlin who in turn is staring at the grass in front of him; he doesn’t move even when Lancelot brings his hand into his lap, stroking his thumb over the servant’s knuckles absent-mindedly.

It’s Percival that finally breaks the silence, asking in a quiet voice:

“What happened, Merlin?”

Merlin looks up suddenly, as if he had forgotten he had company, taking in a deep breath and tightening his grip on Lance’s hand. He gulps before once again running his free hand through his hair, shrugging slightly as he mutters:

“I don’t recall all of them in perfect detail, just ask about... whatever catches your eye I guess, and we’ll see what I can remember.”

The knights all nod, looking to each other expectantly, no one really wanting to go first. Eventually Leon clears his throat, his voice gentle:

“Why don’t we start with the whip marks on your back?”

Merlin nods, grateful that they were at least starting off with the non-magical injuries. He doesn’t make eye contact with anyone as he speaks, his voice croaky and quiet:

“The newer ones are from Cenred, from a few years ago. He wanted information and I spat at his feet and told him to fuck off. He... he didn’t take too kindly to that.”

Gwaine lets out a quiet curse, and Arthur sits up straight, saying in a crackingly authoritative voice:

“Merlin, if anyone ever tries to extract information from you again, you give them anything. Everything. We’ll deal with the fall-out afterwards, it is not your job to withstand torture.”

The other knights nod approvingly but Merlin just looks up at The King with a raised eyebrow:

“Like hell. I can put up with a remarkable amount, I’d never sell Camelot, or you, out. Never, Arthur.”

Arthur huffs and resolutely ignores the tears gathering in his eyes, but Elyan beats him to the mark:

“That’s not... you shouldn’t have to put up with anything Merlin, it’s not necessary. You just... keep yourself safe. We’ll worry about everything else.”

The other knights nod again, but Merlin scowls and tenses even further, even as Lancelot squeezes his hand comfortingly:

“I’ve been through literal hell, multiple times, in order to protect my home and the people that are important to me. I’m not going to stop that just because it makes you lot uncomfortable, and you have no right to tell me to it’s not my place.”

Everyone looks desperate to argue, but they can’t deny that, after what they’ve seen today, in the last half a candle-mark only, Merlin is evidently a lot stronger than they’ve ever given him credit for. Both physically and mentally. Leon just gives Merlin a small smile and nods; he’s the only one here who has known Merlin just as long as Arthur, and he may not be as close to the younger man as The King or Lance or Gwaine or Mordred, but he’s seen his loyalty in action several times over the years:

“You said the newer ones were from Cenred. You’ve been flogged more than once?”

Merlin nods at the knight, grateful for his understanding and change of subject, even if said change of subject was back to his scars. His expression turns slightly guilty as his gaze moves to Arthur, and The King has a feeling he’s going to feel incredibly terrible at whatever it is Merlin is about to say:

“The others are from... uh.... Uther.-”

Arthur takes in a sharp breath as the tears he had just about managed to get under control gather again. The other knights just look angry, bar Leon, who, though miserable, looks as though he sort of expected it:

“-He didn’t like me very much.”

Arthur whispers his response:

“When? Merlin, when and why did my father have you flogged, and how did I not know about it?”

Merlin tenses his jaw, going from guilty to angry in a split second, snapping his response:

“Why do you think?!-”

Arthur recoils and Merlin closes his eyes briefly as he takes a deep breath, looking back to Arthur with a blank mask and speaking in a monotone voice:

“What did you think he would do every time I took the blame for you missing a meeting or a meal or a training session because you were entertaining a woman or pissing about with your knights? I had to walk into the council room and apologise for your absence because I slept in or I forgot to tell you or I sent you on a hunt on the wrong day. Uther was in the habit of burning people and chopping off an alarming number of heads, did you really think I would get away with it punishment free??

Arthur goes pale as a sheet and his hands tremble with the understanding. He shakes his head slightly as he looks to his lap, ignoring the tears on his cheeks as he murmurs:

“Merlin I am so sorry, I didn’t... I didn’t think... if I had known I would have duelled him in the damn town square to protect you.-”

Arthur looks up sharply, wiping his face clean as he settles an assessing gaze on his servant, ignoring Gwaine’s murderous glare as he slowly continues:

“-... which is exactly why you never told me, isn’t it?”

Merlin shrugs, a small smile on his face:

“You may never admit it, Arthur, but you were protective of me, even then.”

Arthur flushes slightly, before frowning again and shaking his head:

“You should have told me, it’s my job to protect you.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow, smirking slightly:

“I think we’ve already had this conversation.”

Arthur huffs and narrows his eyes again, good-naturedly this time, and Merlin just rolls his eyes before seeming to sag again, speaking quietly:

“Come on, next one.”

Elyan raises his hand slightly before pointing to the centre of Merlin’s chest:

“How the hell did you get a burn like that?”

Merlin tenses, rubbing a hand over the roughly circular, pink and white scar in the centre of his chest. The flesh looked melted in places, white scar tissue spider-webbing out from his sternum, beginning to fade just before it stretched around his sides, and stopping a few inches above his naval:

“Witch threw a fireball at me. Hurt like hell, but there was quite a lot of adrenaline at the time so I didn’t really notice the pain until later.”

Gwaine raises an eyebrow, evidently trying to control his anger as he asks, in a shaking, though forceful, voice:

“And what were you doing fighting a witch powerful enough to throw fire around?”

Merlin stops rubbing at the scar when Lancelot tugs his hand and Mordred mutters “You’re going to hurt yourself, Merlin.” in his head, curling his hand tightly in his lap instead and speaking slowly, as if he were choosing each word individually:

“Only Leon and Arthur were in Camelot for that. Arthur was dying from the Questing Beast bite, I... went to the Isle of the Blessed to speak to the followers of the Old Religion. There was said to be someone there who had power over life and death and I... Arthur was dying, I had to try.-”

Arthur’s eyes widened at Merlin’s words, mostly the mention of such a power, but stays silent, nodding at him to continue:

“-But the Old Religion requires balance, a life for a life,-”

Leon releases a deep breath, looking to the floor at the implication with his eyes closed, and Arthur lets out a whispered whimper, knowing the depths of Merlin’s loyalty:

“-I offered my own in exchange for Arthur’s. She, Nimueh, that is, accepted,-”

Arthur opens his mouth to say something, he’s not sure what, but before he can yell about Merlin’s self preservation, he notices the darkness on his dearest friend’s face and his voice catches in his throat. Merlin stares at the floor, his face drawn and angry and his voice stormy and clipped:

“-but she tried to trick me. I didn’t appreciate that, we fought, she died. Her life for Arthur’s: the deal was done.”

An audible gasp goes up around the circle, and Percival, who is (other than Merlin and Mordred of course) the most well versed in Magic Info, responds breathlessly:

“Merlin... Nimueh is a High Priestess, The master over Life and Death, she’s very very powerful.”

Merlin looks up at the gentle giant sharply, his gaze unforgiving and his tone harsh:

“Yeah, and she’s also very very dead, because she pissed me off.”

Percival gulps and lowers his gaze, but Arthur seems to have missed everything the two of them just said as he stares blankly at his servant:

“You’d barely known me a year, and I’ll admit that I was an arse back then, and you tried to give your life for mine. Why?”

Merlin looks at him curiously, not responding for a few moments as his anger dies down and his pride grows:

“I had it on good authority that you would become a Great King one day. It only took a little squinting to see it, you were a good man, a man I was, and still am, prepared to sacrifice myself for. You were an arse, yes, you still sort of are, but I have faith in you, always have, always will.”

Lancelot and Mordred smile fondly at him as the other knights stare dumbfounded, but Arthur clenches his jaw, ignoring the shaking in his voice as he says:

“Well, I... I forbid it. You are officially forbidden from sacrificing yourself for me, legally.”

Gwaine perks up slightly:

“Out of curiosity, do we all get the same-”

Arthur interrupts him with a forceful, though slightly amused:

“Shut up, Gwaine. And no, you’re a knight, your entire job description is to jump head first into danger so I don’t have to. I have every faith that you’ll die for me one day.”

Everyone lets out quiet snorts at that, bar Gwaine of course, who looks jokingly affronted before he nods and shrugs, quietly muttering “Yeah, fair enough,-”, the rest of his sentence (”especially considering you’re in love with him but not any of us.”) goes unheard and unchallenged.

Merlin chooses not to respond to Arthur’s demand, but everyone knows that’s his way of not committing to anything, knowing full well that Merlin had never listened to Arthur’s orders before, and sure as shit wasn’t going to start now.

“Next one.”

Merlin’s face had fallen slightly, knowing he wasn’t going to get away with explaining only two sets of scars, and Gwaine asks next, his eyes being drawn to Merlin’s gesturing hand:

“The red bands around your wrists and neck. They look like burns, but not very deep ones. How did they scar if they weren’t deep?”

Merlin looks down at the scars on his wrists, resisting the urge to absent-mindedly claw at the one he knows sits low on his neck. They’re about two inches wide, pale pink and almost impossible to see in the dark but impossible not to see in the light of the noon sun, even sat in the shade. The edges were clean cut and perfectly straight, and Merlin winced slightly at the memory of his magic being contained in such a way.

He looks around the circle, speaking easily. Though it was painful, it was no where near the worst Merlin has ever had, and even if he couldn’t tell the full truth, it felt sort of nice not to have to hide these ones:

“Some sort of enchanted chains, they drained my energy, made me sick and tired, but the magic in the metal sort of... stung, I guess. I don’t really know. I’d been captured by Morgause (is Morgana not mentioned in this entire fic but still Good? Yes.) again and I suppose she didn’t want to take any chances.”

Everyone looks shocked at his casual admission, and Leon is the first to break the tense silence:

“When were you captured by Morgause?”

Before Merlin can respond, Arthur pipes up incredulously:

“Again. You said again. Merlin, how many times have you been kidnapped by Morgause without anyone realising? How many times have you been kidnapped in general?!”

Merlin winces slightly, speaking in a slightly defensive tone as he stares at Arthur as though the answer is obvious:

“Arthur... I’m The King’s personal manservant. I have the power to overrule the Steward and the Housekeeper if I wanted to; as far as servant’s go, I have the most authority, even more than some low level nobles, especially when it comes to running the citadel. I’m sort of... a big deal. I have access to pretty much any information I could want, even more than this lot-”

He gestures to the knights around the circle. Mordred and Lancelot look a little proud once again, Leon is staring at Arthur, shocked that The King didn’t know this, and everyone else stares at Merlin, only just realising that... Merlin was right. None of them have considered it before, but he practically runs the castle.

“-most of the time, and I’m the only one who knows every single state secret, simply from my proximity to you and your council and your paperwork. That is rather... desirable to people like Morgause, people who want to attack Camelot.”

Merlin purses his lips awkwardly as everyone stares at him blankly, but Gwaine is the first to break the silence:

“... and we’ve just been letting you walk around, unprotected.”

Merlin raises as eyebrow:

“I think we’ve already established I don’t need protection.”

Arthur huffs and throws his hands up awkwardly:

“Well you obviously do, if you’re getting kidnapped so often. When even was this?? You haven’t disappeared for a while, and we haven’t had any trouble from Morgause in months.”

Merlin’s face falls, and the knights are taken aback at the reappearance of the... cruel darkness in his expression:

“Believe me, I know. She... won’t be bothering us any longer, I wasn’t fond of her repeated attempts to kill me or you so I... took care of it.”

The knights go pale at Merlin’s casual admittance of killing yet another High Priestess of the Old Religion. He smirks into his lap briefly until Lance once again squeezes his hand, as if reminding him of the mask he should be wearing. Arthur stares at his servant and long time friend, struggling to reconcile the clumsy ideal he has in his head with this... hardened, tortured protector:

“How? Nimueh and Morgause... just... how??”

Merlin’s eyes slowly move up to meet Arthur’s gaze, and The King gulps at the assessing way the servant tilts his head:

“Playing the role of clumsy rural idiot can be a little demeaning sometimes, but it also means that people tend to underestimate me. They think I’m an easy target, and by the time they realise I’ve played them, it’s too late.”

Arthur recoils slightly, and Merlin once again changes dispositions, shrugging casually and smiling easily, his tone light:

“You can get away with a remarkable amount when people think you’re stupid.”

The circle lets out an in-sync breath. All of them knew that Merlin wasn’t stupid by any stretch of the imagination, but they didn’t realise just how smart he is. None of them would admit it, but Elyan, Leon, Percival, Arthur, and even Gwaine on some level, still subconsciously considered Merlin “just a servant” in the back of their minds. At least... they did.

(Not that that old thought process made them think any less of him, they just didn’t think of him as complicated, as a warrior.)

Merlin takes a deep breath, knowing that his friends would never see him in the same way, but sort of hoping that that was a good thing, gesturing vaguely to the circle once again. Arthur asks the next question, touching his hand to the back of his own neck softly:

“There’s a cut on the back of your neck. It looks deep, like it was reopened over and over, what is it?”

Merlin grimaces slightly, wiping his free hand over his face in exhaustion as Lancelot squeezes his other hand, and Mordred pats his knee comfortingly:

“That one was a few years ago, courtesy of Morgause again. She put something called a Fomorrah in me-”

Percival gasped slightly, harshly whispering “Gods.” under his breath. Arthur spares him a quick glance, making a mental note to question how his knight seems to know so much about sorcery at a later date:

“-so she could try to make me kill Arthur; it sort of... controls you. Makes you only able to focus on whatever instruction you’re given when it’s first put in you. Gaius kept having to cut it out of me, it wouldn’t stop re-growing until we killed the rest of it’s body, and that was with Morgause somewhere out of the city.”

Arthur looked a little outraged, hiding the worry of “I now know that Merlin could kill me without any trouble at all so how the fuck am I alive?”. Apparently he doesn’t hide it well; Merlin gives him a comforting smile and shrugs his shoulders slightly:

“I fought the compulsion pretty well, kept coming up with increasingly complicated assassination plans instead of just... stabbing you in your sleep or something.”

Arthur goes to respond, but he’s interrupted by Leon loudly cursing, his eyes wide as he stares at Merlin with flushed cheeks:

“I just... gave you a crossbow!! You said you were going to kill Arthur and I thought you were joking and I let you walk out the armoury with a crossbow and a handful of bolts!!”

Merlin chuckles, a blush of his own rising as he responds, rubbing the back of his neck again:

“Yeah... I don’t really remember it, but Gaius and Gwen filled me in on what had happened. To be fair, it’s kind of flattering that you never considered that I was the assassin, despite the repeated attempts being made on Arthur’s life and the fact that I admitted it to your face.”

Leon stares at the floor with wide eyes, seemingly trying to process the fact that he had pointed a would be assassin in the right direction, muttering something along the lines of “oh my Gods oh my Gods oh my Gods” over and over until Elyan awkwardly patted him on the back, breaking him from his embarrassed horror.

Arthur clears his throat, staring at Merlin with an almost unreadable expression:

“I did wonder why the attempts just... stopped?”

Merlin understands the question in his tone and nods slightly before replying:

“Hmm. Gaius and Gwen figured out it was me, found a way to paralyse the thing in my neck until I managed to get back to Morgause’s little lair and kill the main body.”

Arthur nods distractedly. How many times had this happened? “This” being something entirely ridiculous and/or incredibly dangerous right under his nose.

Percival clears his throat and Merlin looks to the nervous man, nodding at him to ask whatever it was that was on his mind, despite his growing discomfort:

“There’s... on your back, it looks like a stab wound but... worse. The veins around it are black and it looks painful despite it’s obvious age and... well... it looks like a Serket Sting, but it... it can’t be, right?”

Merlin tenses, back to looking as exhausted and scared and as ready to bolt as he had at the beginning of the conversation. Lancelot squeezes his hand again, tightly this time, and Mordred takes his other to stop him from clenching it too harshly, murmuring:

“You don’t have to, Merlin, not this one.”

Arthur clenches his jaw at the knowledge that two of his knights had known about this. Had known the collage of agony on Merlin’s body, had known what he’d been through and done nothing. Hadn’t prevented it, hadn’t brought it to Arthur, hadn’t protected him. But equally, with how protective and loyal and secretive Merlin is, and how heartbroken the two of them had looked when Merlin first took his tunic off, they likely hadn’t known the full extent of damage.

Merlin just sighs and shakes his head, sensing the curious stares of the others before rising to his knees and turning around, running a shaking hand over the scar briefly before dropping his hand to his side again. The others stare, astounded. They’d only caught brief glimpses of it before, but now they could see it properly it was undoubtedly a Serket Sting.

The deep puncture mark on his lower back had closed up, but the skin was still sunken in slightly, red and angry looking with hints of purple towards the middle. Percival was right: dark veins, as if permanently poisoned, stretched out from the centre of the wound, dipping below the waistband of his trousers and fading about halfway up his back.

After a few moments, Merlin turns around again and sits back down, placing his still shaking hand back in Lance’s lap without prompting. Arthur’s one-word question is whispered and cracked, and no one judges him for the tears in his eyes; most of them have tears of their own gathering and falling at their friend’s pain:

“How?”

Merlin gulps, not looking up as he leans slightly into Mordred’s shoulder. The young knight presses back, knowing how fond the servant is of warm pressure, not minding the sticky sweatiness of their still uncovered torsos in the noon heat:

“Morgause again. She got annoyed with me always ruining her plans, getting in the way. Left me chained up in the middle of a nest of... in the middle of a nest.”

Leon takes a deep breath, rubbing his eyes harshly and sniffing before asking, his voice strong despite the slight waver:

“How did you survive that? I’ve... I’ve seen men get stung by serkets and it’s not... nice.”

Merlin breathes shakily, his mouth open slightly as he stares at the floor, memories flashing through his mind and the scar on his back twinging uncomfortably. Again, Percival was right, despite it’s age, it did still hurt. He takes one last deep breath, clenching his eyes shut tightly before looking up at the curly-haired knight, not quite making eye-contact:

“I uh... a lot of screaming, and the help of an... old friend. I was out of Camelot for a few days whilst I recovered, my friend didn’t fancy being executed for helping me, for just existing.”

Arthur furrows his brows but the others, bar Leon, nod in understanding, looking only slightly guilty and not looking to The King as he asks:

“What do you mean? If someone has found a way to cure a Serket sting then they most definitely wouldn’t be executed for it.”

Elyan snorts and Mordred and Lancelot frown at the floor as Merlin stares at Arthur with poorly concealed contempt:

“Arthur... the cure for a Serket sting has been around for centuries, it just involves very strong, very complicated magic. I didn’t fancy dying in absolute agony, and my friend didn’t fancy being executed for the act of saving my life so we stayed away from the city whilst he treated me.”

Arthur looks at his servant, dumbfounded and confused, and the knights stay silent in their awkwardness. Leon, a lifelong citizen of Camelot, is the only other person to look surprised at Merlin’s explanation, though he nods after a few moments, conceding that it... makes sense. Of course it does.

Mordred frowns when he notices Merlin’s knee begin to bounce up and down slightly, but it’s the way he gulps and tightens his grip on Lance’s hand that has the two knights begin to properly worry. They share a quick look, obviously agreeing on something, before Mordred takes Merlin’s other hand and settles a soft touch on his vibrating knee whilst Lancelot looks to Arthur:

“I think we’re done for the day. This has been... a lot.”

Merlin is getting paler by the second and Mordred can sense the man’s distress, shooting Lance a desperate look before subtly trying to shuffle closer to Merlin, who leans even further into his touch. Arthur doesn’t seem to notice, looking annoyed at Lancelot’s assertion and rolling his eyes before moving his gaze back to Merlin’s quivering form:

“No, Merlin’s suffered and I need to know why. There are mace wounds on both your shoulders, I remember one, but not the-”

Arthur is interrupted by a low whine from the back of Merlin’s throat as he thumps his head back against the tree, eyes still shut tightly. His words out come quietly and broken, as if it were a struggle to breathe, let alone speak:

“Can we please stop now?”

Mordred ignores Arthur, moving to kneel in front of the servant whilst Lancelot glares at The King. Arthur just huffs slightly, though he obviously completely underestimates the distress his friend is in, looking concerned, but not letting up:

“Merlin, we’ve barely gone through a third of them, we can’t stop-”

Lancelot lets out a low growl, letting go of Merlin’s hand and moving towards Arthur, glaring as he says:

“Arthur, we need to stop. Now.”

The young King looks taken aback, though the argument is stopped in his throat when Mordred’s quiet voice interrupts him:

“Merlin, you need to breathe.-”

He peers around the young knight as best he can, but Lance’s still vicious glare stops him from moving too close. Mordred brings one of Merlin’s hands up, pressing it against his chest and continuing his soft instructions:

“-Copy my breathing, alright? Can you tell me where you are right now, Merlin?”

The knights all stare on in horror at Merlin’s pale skin and ragged breathing, staying still in their places when Lancelot gestures at them firmly. It’s Merlin’s next word, cracked and whispered, that trigger another round of tears to gather in their eyes:

“C...cave.”

Mordred shakes his head slowly and Lancelot curses under his breath, kneeling back next to Mordred and retaking Merlin’s other hand, holding it between his own securely. Mordred’s soft voice floats in the wind, and if the knights weren’t so distracted by their friend’s pain, they would think it sounds almost magical:

“No, you’re safe, Merlin. Think, listen, feel. Can you try to tell me where you are again?

Merlin shakes his head roughly, his still-shut eyes not stopping the tears from squeezing out as he flinches, strikes of lightening-like agony shooting out from the scar on his lower back. Lance worries his lip between his teeth, rubbing one of his hands up and down Merlin’s shivering arm; a nod from Mordred has Lance speak, his words soft and low despite the waver in his voice:

“Merlin, you know where you are, and me and Mordred are right here with you. You need to open your eyes buddy, tell us where we are.”

Merlin’s breathing instantly seems to calm a little at Lancelot’s voice, and he cracks his bloodshot eyes open, immediately sighing when his blurry gaze lands on the canopy above him, whispering:

“Tree... sky... Camelot.”

The others can see Mordred let out a relieved sigh, and they force themselves to relax slightly. Merlin’s body sags again and Lance frowns, but the young servant’s stuttering words as he stares blankly up into the tree interrupt any reassurance he could have offered:

“Please, I can’t... I don’t... please don’t make me-”

Lance stills his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, not even paying the slightest bit of attention to anyone else as he replies:

“No one’s going to make you, Merlin, we can carry on another day-”

Arthur’s interrupted “But-” is quickly shut down when Lance turns around to glare at him, a sharp “-I said we’re done for the day.” sent his way.

Merlin flinches again, the pain in his back getting worse and worse and making it harder to keep a grasp on reality, so damning the consequences, Mordred presses a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes and he mouths the words to a sleeping spell as quietly as he can. Thankfully, everyone’s attention is on the glaring contest between Lancelot and The King, so no one immediately notices the way Merlin falls forwards into Mordred’s arms, not until he nudges Lance in the leg and mutters:

“He passed out. We should get him to Gaius, he needs proper rest and pain medication.”

Lancelot nods his head firmly, back to ignoring Arthur and the others as he moves to Merlin’s side, pulling his arm over his shoulder as Mordred does the same on the servant’s other side. Mordred’s eyes scan over the knights, searching for whoever looks the most likely to help without question; his gaze stills on a terribly worried looking Gwaine:

“Gwaine, run ahead to warn Gaius, tell him that Merlin had a really bad episode and then passed out.”

Gwaine gulps but nods, gathering his tunic in quick hands and putting it on haphazardly as he sprints back to the castle. Mordred and Lancelot adjust their grips, standing and bringing Merlin up with them as they turn in the direction Gwaine had ran and begin the careful journey back to the citadel. The knights follow behind them closely, hastily dressing themselves and desperate to ask questions, but knowing that now was not the time. Elyan jogs ahead of them to open doors and clear a path, and Percival had grabbed Merlin, Lancelot, and Mordred’s tunics as Leon put all of the swords away before catching up.

Thankfully they don’t come across many people, though Lance and Mordred still do their best to conceal Merlin between them, knowing that he would be distraught if anyone else saw his scars. They make good time to Gaius’ chambers, and they find the Physician preparing a few strong pain potions and sleeping draughts as Gwaine paced.

Gaius looks incredibly worried, but unsurprised, and Lance and Mordred carry Merlin up to his room without prompting; the sick feeling in Arthur’s stomach tells him that they’re practiced at this. The King goes to follow them, but they kick the door shut behind them so they can have at least a little privacy whilst they settle their friend in his bed. They leave the covers off, knowing that he’d just overheat or kick them off in the nightmares that they know are coming. Lance nods knowingly at Mordred, and the younger of the two moves swiftly back into the main room, shutting the door behind him again softly, avoiding eye contact with anyone bar Gaius, even as Percival hands him his tunic.

The elderly Physician raises an eyebrow, and Mordred answers the wordless question quietly, though not quiet enough for the other knights to not hear him:

“Not yet, but soon, he’ll definitely need a sleeping draught to get him through it. It was his back, so he’ll need the strongest pain one you’ve got.”

Gaius nods, picking up two of the many concoctions he had prepared, not reacting to Arthur’s desperate questions, leaving the conversation to Mordred:

“What are you talking about? Get through what??”

Mordred sighs and frowns slightly, unable to get over all of his anger at the King for pushing Merlin so far:

“The nightmares. He always gets them, especially after an episode that bad.”

Arthur recoils, just a little horrified, but Gwaine beats him to the mark, asking in a shaking voice:

“Episode??”

Mordred moves his gaze to the worried knight, a little more sympathetic to the man he knew was more loyal to Merlin than he was to The King:

“Flashbacks, panic attacks. Merlin has been through... a lot. Chronic pain or difficult conversations sometimes trigger a sort of... breakdown, he struggles to differentiate between memories and reality. Normally he can just wait it out with a little help. When it’s really bad we put him to sleep, it’s the only way to stop him from hurting himself accidentally.”

Everyone looks horrified at that, their focus on Mordred rather than Gaius, who was stealthily ascending the steps to Merlin’s room, potions in hand. Arthur is the first to break the tense silence:

“How long? How long as he been getting these episodes, and why the hell did no one think to tell me?!”

Mordred moves his harsh gaze back to The angry King, glaring at him when his voice rose:

“With all due respect, My Lord, lower your voice. Merlin needs rest, he needs to not be disturbed.”

Arthur looks annoyed, though still heartbroken, but nods slightly, almost whispering as he responds:

“You didn’t answer my questions. How long, and why wasn’t I told?”

Mordred sighs, looking to the floor briefly as he crosses his arms over his chest . After a few moments of considering his answer, he finally looks up again, suddenly appearing exhausted and resigned as he replies softly:

“I don’t really know. He didn’t tell us, we just... found out. It took us a while to convince him to explain it properly and let us help. He didn’t want anyone worrying or treating him like glass; it doesn’t happen very often at all, and this is... this is the worst one I’ve ever seen.”

Arthur frowns and shakes his head slightly, but it’s Leon that speaks next:

“Why not tell us, at least? What if something had happened and you weren’t with us? We wouldn’t have known what was wrong.”

Mordred takes a deep breath and shrugs, nodding slightly, obviously aware that he couldn’t tell them about his and Merlin’s mental link:

“We tried telling him that, but he wouldn’t have it. We were maybe one more conversation away from convincing him to tell Gwaine or Guinevere, but I guess that’s not necessary anymore.”

Arthur pushes down the twinge of jealousy that Merlin had never even considered telling him, but it obviously shows on his face; Mordred scowls slightly, clenching his hands to try and cover his annoyance. Before either men can say anything, Lancelot comes back down from Merlin’s room, leaving Gaius with the young servant:

“It’s starting, Mordred we need to go, everyone else, out.”

Percival throws Lance’s tunic to him as the knights move to the door, albeit reluctantly, but Arthur doesn’t move, glaring down at Mordred angrily when the younger man stops him from going into Merlin’s room:

“He’s my manservant, I want to be there when he wakes up.”

Mordred narrows his eyes, and Arthur kicks himself for never realising how much Merlin meant to him before now, but before the knight can say anything, Lancelot steps up next to him, answering in his stead:

“No, me and Mordred will be there, that’s all he needs. You need to go, My Lord.”

Arthur gears up to argue, to pull rank, squaring his shoulders and snarling slightly, but an angry Lancelot is something he’s never seen and never had to deal with before, so he’s far too surprised to say anything when the knight interrupts his posturing:

“I said no, Arthur. He has to pretend in front of you. You’ve already done this to him,-”

He gestures angrily to the door to Merlin’s room:

“-he needs to not tense up and stress out immediately upon waking up.”

Arthur steps back slightly, but clears his throat, pushing through the slight heartbreak and guilt to argue:

“Oh, and he doesn’t have to pretend in front of you two?”

Mordred rolls his eyes, giving Lancelot a pointed look before stalking up to Merlin’s room, leaving the older knight to deal with the angry King. Lance clenches his jaw and lets out a harsh breath, looking away briefly, as if trying to stop himself from saying anything cruel, before giving up and glaring back at Arthur:

“No. He doesn’t. Because we, and Gaius, are the only people who actually know the first thing about Merlin, and he trusts us. He needs space, and time to heal, and comfort, not the demanding presence of a King whose already pushed him too far, who treats him like shit and forces him to think he has to hide who he is. For God’s sake, Arthur, can you please, for once, think of anyone but yourself.”

Arthur widens his eyes, and though Lancelot looks a little like he regrets what he said, he doesn’t back down, nodding to the door behind Arthur and not moving away until The King steps back again. Arthur takes a deep breath, turning to exit the Physician’s chambers before the knight could see the guilt on his face and the tears in his eyes. He leaves without looking back, ignoring the gaggle of knights waiting worriedly in the hall and stalking straight to his chambers, only just managing to shut the door behind him before the tears finally started falling.

Back in Merlin’s room, the servant thrashes in his sleep, whimpering despite Mordred’s comforting whispers in his head, Gaius’ hand in his hair, and Lancelot’s soft lap as a pillow.

This... was going to be a tough one.

The End of part 1!!!

This was legit supposed to only be one part buuuuuuut we can all see how that went. Part two will follow on really quickly, but it was getting far too long to leave all as one 😅

I hope y’all enjoyed it, link to part 2(the final part) at the top!! :)

788 notes · View notes

drakenology · 3 years

Text

Arguments - feat Bakugo, Todoroki, Kirishima and Tamaki Amajiki

author’s note: i’m feeling angsty today. so this is gonna be about arguing with some of the bnha characters. anyone else feel off today? just me?

warnings: swearing, angst, fluff 🥺, and suggestive themes not full on smut. characters aged up! some of these are long.. i was feeling dramatic

headers from @annicon

Bakugo

as much as i love this man i can admit he would be SOO stubborn

would get frustrated easily

yells 🥺

he knows when to walk away when the conversation isn’t getting anywhere which is good

would NEVER hurt you (i’ve seen ppl write that this mf hits you... girl...domestic violence is not an aesthetic.)

he isn’t the best with words so it’ll take him a little while to admit he’s wrong because he can’t verbalize how sorry he is sometimes

when he does he’ll hug and kiss you and apologize like a million times after he’s done being a stubborn little prick.

gives you the best “i’m sorry “ dick imaginable holy shit

Bakugo done did it. He pissed you off. You were already having a terrible day and then you come home to this motherfucker with a bunch of people over after you told him that you weren’t in the mood for company. So for the rest of the night when everyone left, you gave him the silent treatment knowing that he HATES when you ignore him on purpose.

“Y/N?”

You say nothing, continuing scrolling through your phone to look like you were preoccupied.

“Y/N, what’s your problem? I know you hear me.” Bakugo persists.

You ignore him, turning your back to face him. He grunts and grabs your shoulder, turning you back around to face him.

“Y/N if you’re pissed at me just say that. But ignoring me is fucking immature and it’s pissing me off!” He yells. Translation: “What did I do? 🥺”

“I’M pissing YOU off!? That’s funny. Because it’s not like you didn’t completely ignore my fucking feelings tonight. Why did you invite Kirishima and Denki over after I specifically said I didn’t feel like playing fucking HOSTESS!” You shout back, throwing your phone somewhere.

“Are you serious!? I never told them to come here they just showed up. What was I supposed to do tell them to piss off!?” Katsuki asked.

“YES!” You scream, annoyed that he’s not getting the reason why you’re upset. You never minded having Bakugo’s friends over but you just wanted to have a calm night with just the two of you. You were exhausted and fixing dinner for you and 3 other people and listening to loud chatter about sports and video games was not on your to-do list.

“This is so fucking petty! I don’t get why you’re so mad that they came over.” Katsuki said shrugging his shoulders.

“That’s the problem, idiot! You don’t fucking get it! I worked all day today. I just wanted us to relax but no, you wanted to have a fucking guys night in my living room! It’s the complete disregard for my feelings that’s pissing me off not the fact that they came. I told you I was tired and you having them come over anyways was like a big fuck you to me!” You explain, your face pulled into a face Katsuki knows is your angry face. Bakugo sighs, not ready to admit that he was wrong.

“Tch. Whatever. I’m gonna go sleep on the fucking couch. Let me know when you’re done being fucking frigid.” He shouts, clearly out of anger.

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

Katsuki leaves your shared room and slammed the door, you throwing yourself onto the bed. You feel tears sting your eyes as you sob into your pillow. You hated fighting with Bakugo, and you knew he hated it too. He has a hard time expressing himself without getting defensive sometimes. But you knew he felt bad. You sigh and close your eyes and go to sleep.

The next morning you get up from bed and get ready to start your day. You shower and brush your teeth, you and Bakugo strategically avoiding each other all morning to go and do your daily routines. You didn’t utter a word to each other. Just questions and short answers.

“Got work?”

“Yup.”

“When?”

“7:30.”

The silence killed you both as you sat at the table and ate breakfast, Bakugo’s face pulled into a frown as he ate. You roll your eyes and go to put your dishes in the sink and grab his once he’s done. You can hear him get up from his chair as you wash both your plates and dry them. You had assumed he was leaving so you just wash all the rest of the dishes without turning your back. Suddenly you felt familiar arms wrap around your waist.

“Let me go.” You say, tearing up at the sudden touch. He was trying to make up with you and you were so ready to forgive him. The tension was almost too much to bear. This fight was small and it turned into something way bigger than need be.

“Not until you listen to me. I’m sorry, ok? I should have never yelled at you the way I did. And calling you frigid wasn’t ok either. I shoulda just told everyone to go home. We have those dumbasses over all the time. One night wouldn’t have killed me. I’m sorry. Can we just forget this shit ever happened? I hate it when you’re mad at me.” He pleaded, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. You smile and turn around to look at his face, cupping his cheeks in both your hands as you stand on you tip toes to kiss him. He kisses you back eagerly, happy that you and him are back on good terms. He pulled away from the heated kiss and looks at the clock on the microwave.

“6:30...we still have an hour to kill. If you’re late I’ll drop you off.” Katsuki says, his eyes turning dark with feral lust.

“Late? What are yo-“ you’re interrupted by Bakugo pulling you into your bedroom with determination to make things right.. his way.

Tamaki (🥺 my new found love)

Tamaki is NOT a confrontational person so arguing with you is really hard. He hates raising his voice or even getting to a point to where he’s angry because he doesn’t want to think about hurting you in anyway.

He’ll shut down and turn cold or try and act nonchalant.

he might even avoid conflict by changing the subject

if he’s riled up enough though he’ll cuss you out.. to his dismay

doesn’t like being mad at you and vice versa

hates arguments.. like honestly can you just get over it so he can eat you out now?

speaking of eating you out, he gives apology head and he won’t stop until you say you forgive him.

Tamaki didn’t like to admit it but he was really jealous. Like really really jealous like YANDERE type jealous. You and him were out to dinner with Mirio so you were all chatting about mindless nothing, catching up like you always do. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary for you but to Tamaki it appeared that Mirio was a little too playful at dinner with you. He was cracking jokes and poking fun and Tamaki took it as him flirting with you; which Mirio would never disrespect your relationship like that. Rage sat in the pit of Tamaki’s chest as you laugh at all his jokes. He was furious but hid it pretty well for the night.

“And then Tamaki wet himself in front of the whole class when I scared him with my quirk in middle school. Can you believe it?” Mirio laughs, causing you to laugh at the thought.

“Oh leave him alone, Togata.” You giggle, waving your hand in front of your face to stop the tears from laughter. He had been making you laugh all night all to Tamaki’s disliking. He was quiet all dinner, which you noticed immediately after Togata’s last joke.

“Hey Tamaki, is everything ok?” You ask, concerned that he might not want to be out anymore.

“Yeah.” He said coldly. “Actually I’m just gonna go to the car. I feel kinda sick.” He stands from his seat and walks to the exit, absolutely fucking furious that you were “flirting” with his childhood friend right in front of him.

“Awkward. What’s up with him?” Mirio asks, completely dumb founded by Tamaki’s sudden disappearance.

“I dunno. I’m gonna go to the car and see what’s wrong. Do you mind?” You ask, standing from your seat.

“Nah that’s cool. I’m actually gonna head out. You go on ahead, Y/N. I’ll take care of the tab.. this time.” Mirio jokes. You giggle and thank him, walking towards the exit. You walk through the parking lot and find the car, seeing Tamaki sitting in the passenger side with his arms crossed across his chest. What was his deal? You open the car door and sit in the driver’s side to meet a thick tension.

“What’s wrong Tamaki? Do you really feel sick or are you upset with me?” You ask.

“Why don’t you ask Mirio? I’m sure he’ll be able to answer since he’s the only guy you talked to all night. It was like I wasn’t even there.” Tamaki says, calm but obviously pestered.

“Is that was this is about? Tama you know it wasn’t like that. Mirio has always been a jokester what’s the difference now?” You ask, getting a little upset at his accusation.

“The difference is that he was trying to make a pass at you. He was so obviously flirting with you.” He says, his tone becoming stern. You’re shocked at how he was getting, frowning at how unreasonable he was being.

“No he wasn’t, Tamaki.” You say, looking him dead in his eyes.

“Yes he was. I’m not about to fight with you about this he was clearly fucking flirting with you. He joked with you all night and you laughed at every single thing he said. You must want to fuck him, don’t you?” He asked, looking at you with some sort of betrayal in his eyes. This infuriates you.

“What are you talking about!? You know I would never cheat on you Tamaki. Especially not with your best friend. What’s with you!?” You ask sternly, not amused or pleased in the slightest.

“Whatever, Y/N.” Tamaki says, looking out the car window while turning the other way so he’s not facing your side of the car. He knew this was stupid and he knew your loyalty was never to be questioned but he couldn’t shake this feeling of jealousy.

“No. You don’t get to start a fight and then blow me off when you’re through arguing! Talk to me!” You yell, furious at this point. Tamaki shrugs, avoiding the situation entirely now.

“Just drive. I wanna go home.” He says, not taking his eyes off the view from his window. You roll your eyes and start the car, pulling out of the parking lot to start your way home. The drive home was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You were so angry that you didn’t talk to Tamaki the whole way home, knowing you’d probably cuss him out if he said the wrong thing. Tamaki immediately felt bad after picking that fight. He didn’t know what came over him, he knew he had to make it up to you before you two go to bed angry with each other. You approach your shared apartment and park the car, silence still riddling the car. The tension between you both was intense and it scared you. You’ve never seen Tamaki this upset. Jealousy was always an issue for him but he’s never reacted this strongly.

“Y/N?” Tamaki says breaking the silence. You look at him, a little relieved that he’s talking to you again.

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that to you. I know you’d never cheat on me, of course. But I was just so jealous. It felt like you and Mirio were on a date and I was just the third wheel. The thought of him taking you from me drove me crazy. I wasn’t thinking. Can you forgive me?” He says, placing his hand on top of yours on the steering wheel. You sniffle, tearing up at his apology.

“Tamaki, I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I love you so much. No one could ever take your place, not even Mirio. I’d never betray you like that, ever.” You sob, tears flowing down your face. Tamaki questioning your loyalty really hurt your feelings and he hated seeing you cry.

“I know that. Please don’t cry. I’m so sorry, Y/N. It was so stupid of me to even assume.” He says, taking his hand and wiping your tears away. He took your hand and gave it a sweet kiss to soothe you, rubbing circles with his thumb on it as he consoled you. You giggle and wipe your tears, happy that you guys made up after that silly fight.

“Let’s go inside.”

Todoroki

arguments between you two get heated. It gets to a point where sometimes you don’t speak to each other for days. he’ll definitely give small reminders that he still loves you to butter you up to alleviate some of the tension.

raises his voice

just as stubborn as bakugo

to a fault of his upbringing facing his emotions was hard for him sometimes, causing him to be cold when you fight

when it’s time to get over it and make up he’ll make it a huge event; flowers, chocolates and lots of freaky apology sex

cant stand arguing with you just like tamaki but wont back down in the slightest

is sure he doesn’t say anything harsh to make the situation worse.

“Why are you being so stubborn?!” You shout at your bi-colored haired boyfriend. The two of you have been fighting all day to your surprise. Shoto was usually easy going and you two hardly fought. But today, a bug seemed to have crawled up Todoroki’s ass and he’s been picking fights all day. You’ve been arguing about small things like who left the bathroom light on or who ate the last hot pocket. Right now it was an argument about when you’re going to meet his father Endeavor. It’s been almost a year since you two have been together and you don’t even think his father knows you exist.

“For the last time Y/N we’re not going to my dad’s house. That’s final! You can argue with yourself about this. End of discussion.” Shoto says, very annoyed at the thought of being near his father. He still couldn’t stand him, even as an adult. He can’t bring himself to bring you around him because he knows how he can be. If he even says something slightly rude to you he’ll flip the fuck out. You groan in frustration, wishing he’d at least consider.

“He doesn’t know we’re together does he!? What am I to you some secret? Why did you stay with me all this time if your family doesn’t even know I exist !?” You shout, tearing up with seering anger.

“It’s not that. Of course he knows we’re together; my whole family knows! Why do you want to involve him so badly?!” Shoto yells.

“Why wouldn’t I want to meet my fucking boyfriend’s father!? You’re not making any sense.” You say, getting more and more frustrated as Shoto makes excuses.

“You know what? Fine. We’ll go meet him tomorrow. But as soon as he treats you like you’re not good enough for me don’t be surprised when I tell you I fucking told you so. God you can be so stubborn sometimes.” Shoto shouts, rolling his eyes at you.

“Oh I’M stubborn!? That’s rich coming from you. You’re being so unreasonable right now. I know you and your father-“

“YOU DONT KNOW SHIT ABOUT MY FATHER. Stop speaking on things you haven’t the first idea about!” Shoto yells, punching a nearby wall. (Oop.) You flinch, shocked at how angry he got so quickly. You tear up and run off to your bedroom, Todoroki immediately regretting getting so upset with you. He scared you and that’s something he never wanted to do to you under any circumstances. You cried yourself to sleep that night, angry that things got so heated. Why did he react like that? And why was he treating you as if you knew nothing about him and his father. He would vent to you about him all the time and you gave him advice when you could. But tonight you felt like you were nothing but an outsider. Shoto didn’t even bother coming into the room. He couldn’t face you after making you cry. Right now, he hated himself for treating you like that. He was just so afraid of his father’s judgement he didn’t want him to hurt your feelings with how crass he was. If Endeavor found the slightest thing wrong with you he’d never let you or him forget it. He could hear him now calling you unworthy of the Todoroki name. The thought alone enraged him. In his own cryptic way, he was trying to protect you from him but this was no way to do it nor did he have the right. Todoroki slept on the couch, missing your warmth against him in your bed.

The next morning the two of you drove to the Todoroki estates in silence. You were still pissed at him and Shoto didn’t want to say anything to further upset you. He was annoyed he was making this trip in the first place but he knew he had to man up for your sake. It was unfair of him to try and keep you away from his family especially since you would one day take on his name and be a part of the family when he married you. He knew he couldn’t keep you away forever, but god couldn’t he have had a little more time? He dreaded this day.

“Ready?” Shoto asks coldly, trying to hide his remorse from his tone. You nod, getting out of the car before he could walk over and open the door for you. Shoto is surprised and gets out with you, guiding you to his old home. He can’t lie, he’s so fucking nervous. What if he hates you? Not that he cares what he thinks, he’ll marry you anyway but still. He at least wants his blessing. You walk with Shoto to the main room of the home and wait for Endeavor to come downstairs. Suddenly you hear footsteps from across the room. It was him. He was tall and his aura was so dark and intimidating.

“You must be Y/N.” Endeavor says, looking down at your small frame. You nod, a wave of nervousness shooting through your body.

“N-Nice to meet you sir.” You bow respectfully.

“No need for that. Please, have a seat.” Endeavor says gesturing to the couch. You and Shoto sit down next to each other, Endeavor following suit by sitting across from you two.

“So.. how long have you two been together?” Endeavor asks, his booming voice almost sending an echo throughout the empty room. You gulp and look towards Shoto.

“10 months.” He answers for you, taking your hand to calm you. You’re still mad at him but god you’re glad he’s doing his best to ease your anxiety.

“And you just now arrange a meeting? Hm.” Endeavor questions, looking at you as if he was scanning you to find something irredeemable about you. You look down at your lap, unable to keep eye contact with the intimidating man.

“I-I wanted to meet with you sooner. Me and Shoto fought about coming here last night but I convinced him.” You say nervously.

“I see. You seem like an ok girl. Shoto has had his fair share of.. inadequate women in his life so, you’re a step up from the rest.” Endeavor says, motioning for a maid to make you all some tea. You laugh nervously, Shoto squeezing your hand in annoyance. Was that a compliment?

“You two seem like you’ve been fighting.” Endeavor says suddenly, observing both your body language. You’re both shocked as you turn to look at each other. How’d he know that?

“What’s it to you?” Shoto asks, glaring at his father.

“Oh nothing. But if you’re planning on marrying this girl it’s probably best to not argue too much with her. Hell, she might up and leave.”

Shoto looks at you, pain in his eyes. The look on his face alone said “I’m sorry.” Shoto hated to admit it but his father was right. Fighting as much as you have been, especially the fight you had last night was toxic and could take a toll on your relationship.

You smile at him and turn to Endeavor

“I’d never leave him.” You say, snuggling closer to Shoto as he blushed. He was embarrassed that he was being so vulnerable around his father but he knew that only you could make this happen.

After a long conversation with Endeavor and Shoto, you leave with a feeling that you might have won him over. You think? He was hard to read, just like Shoto. He was more like his father than he likes to admit. Shoto opens the car door for you to get inside and then walks to the drivers side to come in. You sit in the car for a while, silent until Shoto grabs you and leans over to kiss you. You kiss him back, tearing up into the kiss.

“I’m sorry, snowflake. I can’t believe I raised my voice at you like that. I was just so scared that he was gonna hate you and say something disrespectful. I should have just told you that instead of being defensive. I’m so so sorry I scared you. Please forgive me. ” He pleaded, peppering kissing on your face.

“I know. And I forgive you.” You giggle, pulling Todoroki closer to you to kiss him again.

Kirishima

Out of all the boys he’s the least stubborn when it comes to fighting. But don’t be fooled, he’ll argue you down. he’s very good at managing his temper when it comes to you.

Regrets starting a fight in the first place

Just wants to cuddle and go back to normal

But when he’s angry hooo boy

doesn’t even yell, he’s like a calm angry which is terrifying

tries talking over you, trying to plead his case

will not rest until the situation is resolved and over with so you guys can move on

like all the others... apology sex

will try not to lose his patience

You and Kirishima had been together for a while now so it was only inevitable that you two have your first fight. You were always a vigilant person and wanted to help others even though you were quirkless like Deku was at one point. Kirishima is protective of you to a fault and the thought of you getting hurt or worse didn’t sit well with him at all. You assured him that you were capable of taking care of yourself and protecting yourself but he wasn’t having any of it. You spent years perfecting your martial arts skills, training your ass off for countless hours everyday and he knew that. But he didn’t want you to one day meet your match without him there to protect you.

“Y/N, drop it. You’re not going on missions with me and that’s final. It’s too dangerous.” Eijiro said, his brows furrowed. He was trying not to lose his patience with you but you kept insisting. He just wished you’d forget about this whole thing; for your safety.

“You don’t have the right to tell me what I can and can’t do! I’m fully capable for taking care of myself and you know that.” You yell, irritated at your boyfriend underestimating your abilities. Eijiro sighs and stands up from the couch to stand in front of you, inching so close you could almost kiss.

“I’ll die before I let you go out there. Do you know what would happen to me; to your friends and family if something happened to you!? We’d be crushed. Please just drop this.” Kirishima says, wanting to avoid this conversation all together. But alas, nothing was changing your mind. You were very head strong and stubborn to no avail so you weren’t going down without a fight.

“You can’t stop me!” You yell

“Oh I can’t?” Eijiro challenged.

“No. You can’t. You can’t treat me like a child, Eijiro.” You say. “How can you say I’m not ready if you don’t give me a chance to prove I am!?”

“Because you just aren’t! Okay!? You say you’re not a child but you’re acting like one and a petulant one at that. Just drop it! God, you can be so stubborn sometimes. Don’t you see I’m just trying to keep you safe!?” Kirishima yells, instantly regretting raising his voice at you and losing his cool. You tear up, furious that he’s treating you like some kid. You grab your stuff and prepare to leave his apartment.

“Where are you going?” Kirishima sighs

“Fuck you, Eijiro.” You say, walking away from him and going outside to cool off. Kirishima tries to grab you before you leave but you snatch your arm away from him and walk outside with a huff and a slam of the door. You wipe your hot tears away and start aimlessly walking down the street to go home. Hell, you don’t even know your way home from Eijiro’s place but you’ll be damned if you go back there. As you walk you see Kirishima’s car pull up to the side of you, driving slowly to keep up with your walking pace.

“Y/N please get in the car.” He says out the car window

“No! I don’t wanna talk to you so just go away!” You yell, continuing to walk as the brisk wind assaults your bare skin. Dammit you forgot your coat.

“Y/N! You’re being ridiculous just please get in the car. You left your jacket; it’s freezing out here!” Eijiro shouts, getting out of the car and grabbing you to pull you inside. You groan, obviously being overpowered by your strong boyfriend. Kirishima slams the door and gets back inside, drives back to his apartment and parks in the driveway. He sighs and leans his head on the steering wheel.

“I’m sorry I got so heated with you. But can you blame me? I’m worried about you. Sure we’ll be on these missions together but what if something happens? What if I’m not there to protect you when something goes wrong? These missions are unpredictable; anything could happen and I’d literally die if even a scratch is put on you.” Eijiro pleads. You start crying, sniffling at his words. He was right to be worried.

“I love you, Eijiro and I appreciate you being so concerned about me. But that doesn’t give you the right to shelter me. You can’t just force me to not follow my dream.” You sob, wiping your tears away. Eijiro grabs your hand and kisses it.

“I know. I just can’t bear the thought of you being hurt. But if this is what you really want, I have no choice but to at least see this through.” Kirishima says, holding your small hand in his two massive ones. You smile, putting your other hand on top of his.

“Thank you. Also, I’m sorry for saying fuck you to you. That was mean.” You say pouting.

“It was. Hurt my feelings.” Eijiro said faking sadness, immediately laughing as he watched your face frown up again at the thought of hurting his feelings.

“Oh shut up.”

#bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha midoriya x reader #bnha imagines #bnha #bnha todoroki x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha headcanons #bnha kirishima #bnha denki #bnha tamaki #bnha amajiki #bnha angst #bnha fluff

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hellogoodbye14 · 3 years

Note

Okay I dunno if you take fic requests but I would love to read one from you based on this prompt 💕💕💕💕

Azriel complaining to Rhys about Nyx bullying him because he keeps asking for hugs and kisses and its harmful to his broody bat facade and "Cauldron Rhys I can't babysit him, HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY NO TO HIM!!!??" while Rhys laughs and the distressing effects of an adorable child on his spymaster.

I m just a sucker for fluff and fun and Uncle Az 😁😁😁

Ask and you shall receive fam ❤️ (also might have gone overboard with this but oh well!)

“Unci Assshh!”, yelled the adorable toddler from across the training field.

Nyx was walking - well more like stumbling- between Feyre and Rhys who each held onto one of his tiny hands to help him balance his walk.

His tiny wings ruffled with each excited step and Rhys just laughed at Nyx’s clumsiness and determination to get to the spymaster.

Feyre and Rhys let go as they neared Azriel and Nyx threw himself at Azriels right leg. Azriel chuckled and ruffled his nephews head. Nyx as usual tried to crawl up Azriels long leg and managed to get to his thigh this time. Azriel gently grabbed Nyx by the scruff of his shirt behind Nyx’s head, like one holds up a puppy. Nyx squeeled with laughter and reached out to play with the shadows around him.

“Hey little troublemaker”, said Azriel as he carefully moved Nyx to his shoulders. The toddler was now joyfully yanking at Azriels hair.

Feyre winced, “sorry Az, he’s been yanking at everyones hair these days.”

Azriel just smiled and said it was no problem at all.

His highlord then gave him a list. Yes a list. One he always gave if Nyx was left with anyone who had to babysit. He had the list at each of the houses. One specifically addressed to every.single.person. To say Rhys was a motherhen was an understatement.

Feyre just rolled her eyes at her mate and motioned Azriel to bend down so she could give Nyx a peck goodbye.

“Be good for uncle Az”

“Unciiii Asssshhhhh!” , the toddler yelled in excitement.

Rhys smiled at his son, “we’ll be back from winter court in about two hours at most. Thank you for doing it again. Oh also under any circumstances NO sugar for him.”

Azriel nodded as Rhys reached up and ruffled Nyx’s hair who in return waved at his father and said “byeee daaaaa!”

Azriel was about to turn and take Nyx flying when he bumped into Gwyn.

“Oh hey!” , but the valkyrie was already cooing at Nyx who now reached out his hands to be picked up by Gwyn.

“Look at you, you little munchkin!”, she grabbed his tiny fist and pretended to munch on them, “oh i could just eat you up.”

Nyx squeeled with laughter.

“Umm.. I’m still here you know.”

Gwyn looked up at a frowning Azriel.

“You get my attention at training everyday, this one is too adorable to ignore.”

Azriel shook his head and rolled his eyes. His shadows as always were reaching out to Gwyn, and Nyx was taking full advantage of it and playing with them.

“Guys!”

Emerie came running out, “we need to go to Illyria for a bit, Nesta says they need help with the commanders meeting.”

Azriel frowned, “Cassian needs me to look over the trainees while he deals with the commanders?”

“Yeap”

“I have Nyx. I can’t train them.”

“He said you only have to stay and overlook it. Give some pointers, not engage them in any training yourself. He’s swamped.”

Azriel reached out to Rhys and Rhys offered his approval to take Nyx with.

Gwyn frowned down at the toddler,

“Will it be safe for him to be there?”

“Feyre says Rhys has a shield around Nyx which equates to the shield around Velaris. Besides he’s with us, it’ll be fine.”

“What did Rhys say?”, asked a surprised Emerie.

Azriel smiled, “He wanted to come back and take Nyx but Feyre told him to shut up and stop being so over dramatic.”

Emerie laughed, “sounds like Feyre. Okay lets go.”

Luckily, the weather at Illyria was on the mild side today, Azriel regardless made sure Nyz was covered and warm. The toddler was taken with Gwyn, not that Azriel could blame him. Any time Gwyn tried to leave the ring, the toddlers face would scrunch up, alerting everyone that he will wail like hell if Gwyn leaves.

Azriel had Nyx buckled and wrapped against his torso, and the toddler squeeled, clapped, and offered “wooaows” at the training illyrians. The illyrians were surprised to see the high lords son but still offered smiles at the toddler, they however turned their gaze away from Azriels stare in fear. Well that was until, Nyx called out and demanded attention, “unciii asshh, kiss”.

The blades the illyrians used faltered at that and gwyn straight up laughed at Azriels red cheeks. He nonetheless couldn’t refuse the adorable violet eyes looking up at him and gave Nyx a peck on the cheek.

The request was repeated another two times, until Nyx started getting fussy. It had been over an hour and Azriel had settled Nyx down on the mat and gave him some snacks. Healthy Rhysand approved snacks. But no. The toddler wanted candy.

“Buddy I have no candy, and your dad said no”

“Unci Ashh pleeease?”

Azriel sighed and looked up at the heavens. He could never refuse this child anything. Lord help him. Where the heck would he find candy in illyria? Gwyn ruffled in her pockets and got out five different candies.

Azriel lifted an eyebrow, “really?”

Gwyn just shrugged, “what.. I get hungry after training.”

“Well aren’t you the answer to all my prayers”

Gwyn blushed at that.

Another hour passed and Nyx was fussy again, Az sat down at the bench and tried to rock Nyx to sleep but the toddler was not having it. He turned around to make sure all the trainees were far away taking their break and looked down at Nyx. He then begun singing light notes of a song Nyx always loved. As he sang, his shadows gently caressed Nyx and soon his nephew was asleep in his arms.

Azriel carefully without jolting Nyx stood up and turned towards the ring. A ring packed with trainees who were gawking at him as if he was an alien. Well they obviously heard their stern spymaster sing a lullaby. Gwyn had returned from Emeries shop with Emerie as well and looked at him funny.

“What?”

She shook her head, “nothing. You have a beautiful voice Azriel.”

Azriel nodded his thanks and felt his cheeks burn.

“I’m taking him to the cottage, are you coming with?”

“Emerie is meeting Mor here in a bit. She’ll winnow us back.” Azriel nodded at the pair and turned to take Nyx inside the cottage. As soon as he got in, Rhys and Feyre had winnowed in.

“Is he okay? Didn’t trouble you too much?”, asked Feyre as she carefully took a sleeping Nyx into her arms.

“He’s fine and he was great.”

Feyre nodded and moved towards the kitchen to warm up some milk. Rhys gave a gentle kiss on Nyx’s head before she left the room.

“Why is there a chocolate stain on my sons mouth?”, said Rhys throwing an accusing look his way.

“Rhys, I can’t say no to him okay?! Its fucking impossible! He looks up at you with his puppy dog eyes and says please and I CANT SAY NO.”

Rhys just laughed.

“No I’m serious! And he is taking my rep to shit okay, I have a reputation to uphold. Everyone was scared of me, NOW THEY LOOK AT ME LIKE IM A CUTE LITTLE BEAR WHO SINGS LULLABIES!”

At this point Rhys was doubled over, holding his hand against his stomach. “Stop! lord this is too good. My high, mighty and terrifying spymaster brought down to a little bunny you said? By a toddler.”

Azriel sniffed, crossed his arms across his chest and rolled his eyes, “I said bear not bunny.”

Azriel could hear Feyre’s laughter from the kitchen as well, “not funny!”

“Oh my gods, its hilarious! I cant even right now”, she called out from the kitchen.

#acosf #acotar #acowar #acomaf #feysand #rhysand #feyre and rhysand #feyre archeron #high lord rhysand #baby nyx #nyx acotar #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #gwynriel #shadowsinger #nyx like his father plays cupid too #nyx and rhys are matchmaker pros

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ramzawrites · 3 years

Note

can I request one where on doomsday dream techno Phil and y/n team up. like this team is super op cuz they’re all good at pvp.

RAMZA I WANNA SAY I LOVE YOUR WRITING YOU ARE VERY POG. STAY HYDRATED EAT WELL AND SLEEO WELL!!!

Reader Joins Team Doomsday

Pairings: none

Characters included: Technoblade, Philza, Dream, Quackity, Ponk, Tubbo, (mentioned Tommy)

Warnings: fighting, mention of death (non descriptive), falling (non descriptive), cursing

Series: a request by a nice anon 💙

Summary: Dream and Technoblade just teamed up in front of almost whole L’Manberg which was a catrastrophic outcome in of itself but when Dream exteneded his invite for teaming up also to Y/N? The L’Manberg people knew they were absolutely screwed.

Words count: 3930

Authors Note: Thank you for the request!! 💙 Also thank you for the nice words!!! I hope you are doing well! Please make sure to stay hydrated and that you rest as well! Thank you pog anon!!

„Listen, we will blow up L’Manberg this time tomorrow!” Dream yelled out. His voice echoing through the ruin that used to be the Community House. All while he was surrounded by a handful of people decked out in armor brandishing their weapons.

Techno stood close by him. A sick grin on his face while he held his infamous rocket launcher between his hands. No surprise there that he would immediately jump on the idea of blowing up this government, especially after they went out of their way trying to kill him while he was in retirement.

A few people let out shocked gasps or surprised exclamations as Dream announced this. Knowing that Dream was a hundred percent serious with this, as well as Techno. Those two were a dangerous combination. A deadly even.

So when Dream moved his head upwards to look at Y/N who seemed to stoically stare at the happenings and calmly asked “Won’t you join us, Y/N?” Everyone’s worry spiked even more.

Y/N scoffed and slammed the end of the trident they were holding onto the small bit of solid ground they were standing on “You already know my answer, Dream.”

While Techno seemed to be a bit confused for a few seconds he appeared to make the connection. Those two have talked about this beforehand.

The others didn’t seem to understand though.

“Y/N? You are joining them?” Tubbo sounded downright hurt.

In that moment Quackity chimed in as well “You are betraying us?”

The grip on Y/N’s trident strengthened “You bet I will! You guys never treated me like one of yours! All I was good for was to get you better gear or play body guard! Hell, at some point you guys basically imprisoned me only to let me out to train you on how to fight Techno! One of my dear friends! How does this surprise you?”

People were already panicked and scared but this was the disaster scenario. There were only three people on this server known for being amazing fighters and all three of them just banded together to destroy their home and possibly kill them all.

Before anyone could retort Dream clapped loudly in his hands to pull everyone’s attention back on himself “We gave you the warning, that’s all. See you all tomorrow.”

With that Dream used an Ederpearl to flee. Y/N followed him suit, having all of this planned out beforehand. Though this also meant they awkwardly left Techno behind but he should be fine. After all he was the Technoblade and as everybody knew Technoblade never dies.

Once the two were far enough away Dream turned to Y/N “Thanks. I appreciate what you are doing. Wouldn’t want to fight against you.”

Y/N laughed “Neither do I. They already looked so scared with your team up with Techno but after you pulled me in they really looked like sheets of paper. It was… interesting to see. Either way I should be the one thanking you. You are giving me a chance for revenge.”

They continued to move towards a snowy tundra. Dream taking the lead since Y/N has been stuck in L’Manberg in the last few months. They wore netherite armor but it was unenchanted. Given to them by the butcher army after they told them of their plan to kill Dream.

The original plan was that Y/N would join them later and make sure that they will be alright. Playing a bodyguard for them once again. Normally they would have used the given armor and weapons as soon as they got it to flee but Dream has met them before this even happened. Hatching out a plan together so in the end this gear was an added bonus that gave extra protection while they fled with Dream.

“Why are we here?”

“Well we gotta prepare.” Dream answered as if that would answer Y/N’s question sufficiently.

While Y/N didn’t exactly truly trust Dream, mostly due to the fact they trusted no one, they didn’t feel the need to ask him to elaborate and instead continued to follow him dutiful. He had something planned and they had to follow him no matter what.

Where else could they go? Their only home was in L’Manberg even if it was more of a prison.

Dream was an enigma to them. Y/N had fought with the man a few times and it was always incredibly tiring every time which was something new for them.

Both Dream and Techno were physical strong, though Y/N suspected that Techno was a bit stronger simply because of his Piglin side.

Techno was a master at preparing and using everything to his disposal and if he didn’t have it he wasn’t scared to spend a ludicrous amount of time to gather these items. He was like a true juggernaut. People called him the Blood God for a reason after all.

Dream was more versatile. Of course he did plan things beforehand but he was better at acting during the situation. If the situation changed you can bet that he was already three moves ahead and noticed things around him he can use for his advantage. Now combine this with the knowledge he had about the world and he seemed almost unstoppable.

Just like Dream and Techno they too were physical strong which came naturally over the years but they relied more on their speed. Being a master at dodging blows and abusing peoples weak spots before they even realize they had any.

Now that they teamed up Y/N could understand how the people begun to fret. Alone the three were a force to be reckoned with but together it wasn’t hard to imagine that they could level a whole city or a nation in this specific case.

“Here, we arrived.” Dream almost whispered. His porcelain mask hiding his satisfied smile as he spotted Techno talking with Philza inside what looked like a nether wart farm. Probably telling him about what just happened and how Tommy betrayed him.

Philza waved towards the two new arrivals “Hello Dream and Y/N.”

Surprised Techno turned around.

“What? We have to plan this somehow even a little bit. This is a bit bigger than just winging it.” Dream explained.

Techno stepped out of the farm and dug his finger into Dream’s shoulder “I have a bone to pick with you two.” He made sure to throw his frown towards Y/N as well as he said that “You just left me! You left me alone surrounded by like thirty people!”

Dream slowly pushed Techno’s hand away from him “And yet here you stand alive and well.”

“No thanks to you!”

“Boy, am I glad to finally meet my old friend Technoblade after being imprisoned inside my own home.” Y/N interjected, already having heard enough of their bickering.

Philza sharply sucked in some air “Yeah, I know what that feels like.”

Techno sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose “Don’t get me even started on you. They started a government right in front of us, you helped me build the Wither’s that destroyed them and yet you still stayed.”

“Oh, Techno you know very well what happened! They managed to catch me when I made sure to keep them off your back as you fled! Besides it gave me time to find out more about their structure and what was happening! I couldn’t know we wouldn’t need it in the end since Dream himself appeared to join our cause in this instance!”

Dream was calm and collected before but now he seemed almost apalled that Y/N would throw such an accusation against him “What?! Now it’s my fault?!”

Phil made his way towards the arguing warriors and made sure to stand in between them, they wouldn’t fight, not yet at least, the fight wasn’t heated enough for that but he needed to get their attention off each other “Okay, I think that is enough. You only have so much time to plan Doomsday.”

“You are right Phil, of course. Well then I have to show both Dream and Y/N something.” Techno seemed to have calmed down and made his way towards his home. Dream followed him and Y/N was about to follow him as well but Philza stopped them by laying his hand on their shoulder.

“Are you okay? You basically have been locked up by the L’Manbergians longer than me”

Y/N smiled softly “Besides missing my old gear? I am alright. Really. But thanks for asking.”

This seemed to be answer enough since he let his hand fall back to his side and instead concentrated on Techno who came running out of his house again with a button in his hand. Dream closely following and confused. Y/N assumed he was confused by his body language but it was hard to tell with his mask.

“Please follow me.”

So the group did as he ran around the corner towards a mountain range. All the while complaining to Chat, the voices in his head, that they had wants for completely unrelated things.

He placed the button down and pressed it. With the loud sounds of pistons moving a flat stone wall begun retracting giving away to a room with wither skulls on the back of the room. Soul Sand structures decorating the room as well as a few chests and what looked like the start of a netherite armor set.

“What!?” Dream exclaimed in his typical fashion running into the hidden place to get a better look at the Wither skulls.

While Y/N was certainly impressed by this something felt off about this. Technically those were a ton of Wither skulls since they are incredibly hard to get by but it didn’t feel enough for Techno but Y/N chose to hold their thoughts to themself.

“As you can see we have enough for a few Withers and combined with, you mentioned raining down TnT?”

“Yeah, Yeah I did. A machine that will literally rain down TnT on the nation.”

“Yeah, combined with that and our fighting power we shouldn’t have a problem destroying L’Manberg.”

Y/N stretched “Okay, we got the gist of the plan I guess but I want a proper one. How will this go down exactly?”

The next day Y/N woke up early. More out of habit than need. They put on their freshly enchanted netherite armor and grabbed their new weapons as well. A netherite sword, crossbow and trident. Techno was already up, probably way before them. He was meticulous when it comes to preparing for fights after all.

As Y/N climbed down the ladder to get to the main level of Techno’s house they found him looking through a chest.

“Morning Techno and thanks for the makeshift bed and letting me sleep over.”

“Seeing as you are currently homeless I didn’t really have a choice and besides it makes it easier to meet up. Even though mister green Teletubby thought otherwise.” He grumbled “By the way there are some baked potatoes inside the furnace. Feel free to grab some.”

Y/N nodded and moved towards the furnace grabbing their breakfast. Potatoes, how typical.

The next few hours was spent by Techno, Philza and Y/N brewing potions as well as warming up. They got into their armor and made sure all of their equipment was working.

Now imagine their surprise while all of them were deep in their preparations and Dream appeared a good hour or so too early.

“Dream? Already here?” Y/N asked him.

He laughed “What? Already sick of me? I’m joking but there is a small change in plans. Let’s get going. Now.”

In the last part the tone in his voice changed from happy to serious which gave Y/N a bit of whiplash with how fast he could apparently change his emotions.

Technoblade pivoted his head to the side “Why already? Did something happen?”

Thankfully Dream shook his head “No, but let’s catch them off guard. If we go now they will surely be surprised.”

“Huh. He has a point.” Philza noted.

So the small group, they begun calling themselves Team Doomsday, started making their way towards L’Manberg but not without first getting Techno’s Hound Army. It was a bit stressful to get through the Nether with them but in the end they managed to reach the Community Nether Portal which led them close to the nation.

“I’m getting ready for the TnT, you all three get into the city and begin doing your thing. Techno as soon as you give me the signal I will spawn Withers and start the machine.” Dream ranted off resulting in Y/N rolling their eyes.

“Dream we were there when we planned this all.”

“Right.” And with that he vanished.

Technoblade turned to Philza “And you stay out of danger. Just spawn some Withers and by Ender stay out of danger. Call for us if anyone gets too close to you.”

This was Philza’s time to roll his eyes “Mate, I know. I’ll be fine!”

He most likely would. Philza was some apparently immortal being after all that still somehow only had one life. It was confusing but Y/N didn’t want to ask since Philza himself seemed to be very secretive about his nature.

With that Philza made sure to stay far away from Techno and Y/N. Still watching them but from a safe distance, holding onto the bag with the extra Wither skulls from Techno.

Together Y/N and Techno ran into the city with the wolves. As soon as Techno spotted Tubbo he immediately ordered his hounds to attack but didn’t attack himself immediately. He needed Tubbo to call the others so this thing could really start. After all, all of them had to get what’s due for them.

And indeed it didn’t take long for Quackity and the others to appear.

“Shit, it’s both Y/N and Techno!”

“Where is Dream!”

“No, idea!”

“We are so fucked!”

The people were scrambling, trying to protect their home but every time they got too close to Techno or Y/N the hounds would throw themselves at them. It was almost ironic how when Sapnap appeared the fight really begun.

“Techno I’ll deal with the people! I think it’s time for our secret weapon!” Y/N yelled over the chaos as they kicked Quackity away.

Between the L’Manbergian party Sapnap and Punz were definitely the biggest problem but as it looked like Punz barely participated. Sapnap was a definite surprise so Y/N wanted to deal with him if they get the chance. Test their mettle against him and maybe find out what moved him to work against Dream so readily.

“Got you!” Techno answered, showing that he heard them.

He got out his rocket launcher and shot a few rounds into the air, giving Dream and Phil both the sign. When Techno himself also got out some soul sand the others understood what was happening and tried their best to reach the Pig Hybrid.

Unfortunately for them the hound army and Y/N stopped them dead in their track.

Y/N had no problem running from person to person to either deflect their attack or kick them away from Techno as he built his little contraption. Two Withers already begun flying towards the middle of the nation. This broke up the group and a few decided to dedicate their fighting prowess to ensure that the Withers wouldn’t cause too much damage.

To that suddenly red TnT blocks suddenly begun raining down from the sky. A manic laughing Dream standing on top of an obsidian structure.

While the people scrambled to not die to the Withers, the dogs or the explosions, Team Doomsday, minus Phil, saw their chance to properly get into the fights.

Y/N didn’t spend any time waiting and immediately jumped in front of Sapnap’s way brandishing their sword. A smirk on their face.

Sapnap looked determined but worry still managed to crack through his expression. He locked his eyes with theirs and moved in heaving his sword up in order to strike them.

But Y/N stayed calm. They took a step forward and practically flowed around him, dodging his attack as they slammed down the sword at his side. It made contact with his armor but as it slid down the metal it managed to hit an exposed part of his arm.

Hissing Sapnap tried hitting them with a sweeping move towards their direction. Y/N used their sword to redirect his weapons movement away from them.

“Your reaction time is good! Too bad I’m better.” Y/N mused as they went back in to attack him.

They attacked him again, giving him a false sense as he tried to block their incoming attack only for them to move around again and kick him in the back of his knee. His leg buckled and crashed down into the dirt. Without any mercy Y/N kicked him again in his leg using the extra strength they had due to the strength potions.

“Fuck!” Sapnap cried out and put his hand inside a brown bag on his side, getting out an Enderpearl and throwing it away. He soon followed and disappeared as well.

“Oh no! You get back here! I haven’t even had the chance to ask you what the hell you think you are doing!”

But Sapnap didn’t hear them. He was too busy dodging attacks from a Wither.

“Y/N!” It was Phil calling out to them. As Y/N looked to where his voice came from they noticed both Ponk and Quackity coming closer to him. They knew he probably could deal with them but still. He was on his last life after all. Extra caution was warranted.

Y/N angled their own Enderpearl towards the blonde brit. Originally planned to be used to follow Sapnap but Phil was more important right now.

The wind got knocked out of their lungs as they landed in front of Phil. The sound of metal hitting each other rung out. A sword hitting Y/N’s armored back.

For a second Phil looked surprised only to jump back to his serious expression as he managed to see Y/N’s smile. He immediately got out a splash potion and threw it at himself and Y/N. They immediately noticed their strength returning. A healing potion. He got another one which seemed to be a strength potion, prolonging the effect that was already on them.

Thankful for the small pit stop Y/N turned around while he was busy throwing the strength potions, looking Quackity right in his face.

Quackity looked pretty confident before but now he was white as snow. Ponk put his second hand on the hilt of the sword. His sword was the one that clattered down on Y/N only to get parried by their armor.

“You betrayed us! Y/N! Do you really wanna do this?” Quackity tried to appeal to them.

Y/N sneered “How does this surprise you still? How? How does this not get in your head? You imprisoned me and made me work against my will against one of my only friends? How does this not enter your thick skull?”

They moved their arm up and brought it down on Quackity. It didn’t surprise them that he managed to parry it with his own but Y/N doubled down pressing down on the blade with their own. Effectively locking him into this position.

Obviously Ponk saw his chance and tried attacking Y/N who was preoccupied with the Vice President but Philza was still there. He just had to extend his trident and managed to interlock Ponk’s blade between the forks of his weapons.

“Phil!” Weirdly enough he seemed to be surprised by that.

“You were about to attack me! Don’t sound so shocked!”

Y/N pushed even harder on Quackity, forcing him to take a step back, getting dangerously close to the edge of the crater that the TNT is still in the progress of making.

“You are just as bad as Techno. Just as bad as Dream.” He spat. Still trying to work against Y/N’s strength.

“From what I saw in my time in this L’Manberg I very much prefer that. At least they treat me like a human person and not just as a weapon to be used!”

With that Y/N musted up the rest of their strength and pushed even harder down. Forcing out a yell as they pushed him one last time. Quackity not having enough strength to hold out anymore had to take another step only to find that there was no ground anymore. He slipped and fell down into the crater.

Not wasting any time Y/N spun towards Ponk who was clashing his sword against Philza’s shield. He was a good enough fighter but it still looked pathetic. He was too desperate.

Y/N used the adrenaline of arguing with Quackity to run and throw their whole body into Ponk. Making him stumble and fall down onto the ground.

Pointing their sword at his throat “I’m sorry Ponk. I respect you for standing up to your ideals but here is the end of the road today for you. Maybe next time you will have a better chance.”

His eyes widened and a weak protest left his mouth but Y/N ignored it. Pushing their sword down, killing him. His body dissolving into golden dust. He was returning to his bed and respawning.

Phil looked at his worn out shield “You okay, Y/N?”

They laughed dryly “I should ask you that. I am fine. I am holding my own out here, how are you?”

“I’m luckily good as well. Thanks for helping me, Y/N.”

It was sad to think about how they never got a proper thanks from the L’Manberg people. It was expected that they helped them.

Y/N nodded “Always.”

They wanted to jump back into the fight but suddenly Dream stood next to them. Looking over the crater.

The opposing party was scattered. Now more dealing with injuries than the fights. Only one Wither left flying around. The crater reached bedrock and yet the explosions still rang.

“I think it’s time we go. This nation is done for.” He spoke.

Techno joined the party. He looked like he was doing alright. His armor obviously scratched up but he was doing alright.

“I say we seemed to be successful.” He noted.

Dream put his hand on Y/N’s shoulder “I saw you fight. Did you know that a few people did a wide berth around you? Avoiding you at all cost?”

Y/N raised one of their eyebrows as they stared at Dream’s masked face. His head directed straight ahead as he observed Tommy who helped Tubbo with one of his injuries he acquired when he protected him from one of Techno’s rockets.

A few seconds passed in silence but then he turned his head towards Y/N “They are scared of you. Proof of your strength. Do with that knowledge what you will but I thought I should tell you since it was interesting to watch from above.”

“Let’s get going. If we wait long enough for them to recuperate then we might still have a problem since we are getting low on potions as well.” Techno spoke in a calm voice.

Truly. For Tommy, Tubbo, for all of the people who tried to protect L’Manberg. The team up of Dream, Techno, Philza and Y/N was their biggest nightmare that just came to fruition.

They knew they didn’t have a chance and yet they had to try. Had to try to protect their home like they always did but it was a vain effort. Who would have enough power to fight against warrior gods?

#mcyt x reader #mcyt reader insert #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x Y/N #dream smp reader insert #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp x reader #dream smp x Y/N #dsmp reader insert #dsmp fanfiction #dsmp x reader #technoblade #technoblade fanfiction #dreamwastaken #dreamwastaken fanfiction #philza #philza fanfiction #ramza writes

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yayeetsonny · 3 years

Text

Always Tell The Truth Part 2 ~ USWNT x Reader

Okay so if you haven’t read the first part of this, which I will put here. Always tell the truth part 1 I suggest you do that, otherwise this one will make no sense. Also sorry... again for being gone so long. I hope you guys didn’t miss me too much. :)

-N

Previously...

“Those bruises, Y/N, where’d you get them?”

“I. Don’t. Know.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Fine then, don’t believe me. First Alex, then Christen and now you. This is just great, my teammates think I’m a liar. Well I’m not and I’m telling you the truth.”

I brushed by her and stormed out of the room, now determined to avoid my teammates so they’d stop asking questions and questioning my honesty.

“I’m not a liar. I don’t know where I got the bruises, I don’t know why they won’t believe me.”

Present

After I stormed out of the room I share with Ali I ran... yes literally ran out of the hotel and out into the street. Well okay it was more like the sidewalk but whatever, I’m going for dramatic story telling here. I was angry, hurt and confused as to why my teammates couldn’t just believe me. I’ve never lied to them before, not ever. If something was going on I would have told them. And I genuinely have no clue where these bruises came from, I don’t remember hurting myself badly in practices or games and I don’t do any other crazy activities that would warrant the sudden appearance of severe looking injuries. I knew I just needed to clear my head so I started walking in a random direction hoping to get my thoughts together.

After a while I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and knew it was probably one of my teammates looking for me so I ignored it. My phone stopped ringing only for a short time before it stared up again. This went on for several long minutes before it finally stopped. After each attempt from whoever was trying reach me there was a separate single vibrate indicating they left a message. I felt a little guilty for disappearing and probably worrying everyone but they shouldn’t have assumed or accused me of lying. Thinking they finally got the message that I didn’t want to speak to them I continued walking god knows where trying to think of what to say when I finally decided to go back. I was really deep in thought, trying to remember if and when I got the bruises. Obviously they don’t just appear like magic. They have to be caused by something, but... what? All the sudden I was hit with a vague memory

“Huh?... Wha- where am I?”

“You fell asleep on the couch dear. Don’t you remember? It was really adorable actually. My mom said super sweetly.

That’s weird, she’s never overly sweet with me, like ever.

“No, I don’t remember doing that.”

I looked around and the tv was on, which is also rare. It was playing a random comedy movie. Comedy? My parents don’t even like comedy movies.

“Oh well you did. Right after dinner, you dragged your feet over to the couch and was out like a light before we knew it.” She said casually.

My dad waltzed in like everything was totally normal. What the fuck is going on. Why don’t I even remember eating dinner? How long have I been here? Why does my body hurt so much?

I came back to the present feeling slightly uneasy. I remembered now a little bit of what happened when I got to my parents house and a little bit of what happened after I woke up from my nap. They managed to convince me everything was fine after that and I left assuming they were telling me the truth because I was too tired and too annoyed to argue. But the more I thought about it the more I wondered just how much of what they said is true. Why were there huge gaps in my time with them? And why do I get the feeling that the weird gut feeling I have isn’t a coincidence? I got lost in thought again but it was peaceful this time and quiet which I was relishing in.

Unfortunately the peace and quiet only lasted for a few minutes when I started to get what I assumed were dozens of texts. I finally got fed up and decided to silence my phone completely. When I unlocked it I saw a glimpse of some of the worried texts from the team. They all pretty much said the same thing;

“Y/N please come back. I’m sorry for saying I didn’t believe you. I’m just concerned about you. I want to talk and I’ll listen to whatever you have to say. Just please come back.”- Ali

“Hey kid, heard what happened. Wanna talk?”- T

“Y/n where are you? I heard what happened and that you left?? please come back, we’re worried.”- Christen

“Bruh what the hell? let’s talk?”- Ash

“where r u?”- Mal

“It’s not safe for you to be out by yourself. Ali told us about the other bruises. Whatever this is we’ll help you. We’re gonna start searching for you if you don’t get your ass back here soon. We love you.”- Alex

And it went on like that as every single member of the team texted me some variation of that and the voicemails they all left were much the same. I started to feel more guilty but let my anger keep me from replying to them. They can stew a little longer.

Meanwhile back at the Hotel...

CHRISTEN PRO//

“Okay, so tell us exactly what happened.”

“I saw the bruises when she was changing, which I happened to walk in on. I don’t think she was expecting me. I asked her what happened and she said that nothing had happened and I asked her about the bruises I saw on her arm, shoulder and spine and she continued to tell me she has no idea where they came from. I told her I didn’t believe her and then she got upset and she just... left.”

“Just like that? She didn’t say where she was going?”

“No, she was so angry she just stormed out and when I tried to follow after her she was already gone.”

“And she’s still not answering her phone. Damnit kid come on, where are you?”

“She’s not safe out there on her own, we have to go look for her.”

“And how are we supposed to find her when she doesn’t have her location on and is doing everything she can’t to ignore us?”

“I have no idea but we have to try.”

“We will, but we should give her a little more time. It’s possible she’s just around the corner cooling off. She’ll come back when she’s ready.”

“You’re right.”

“Guys I hate to steer us back into more serious topics but shouldn’t we be talking about the bruises she has that started all of this?”

“What do you guys think they’re from?” Megan asked.

“I want to believe her when she says she doesn’t know but I mean how can you just not know about bruises as severe as those?” Ash said.

“I mean... I’ve had some pretty bad ones I don’t remember getting from anywhere.” Mal said off-handily.

I saw some of the rest of the team nod silently, indicating that they too had, had the same thing happen to them. And I had to admit that I had my fair share of bumps and bruises that I couldn’t explain because they just seemed to appear but I was still concerned for our youngest teammate as it was getting pretty late and it was already dark outside.

“Oh god, you don’t think it’s her parents do you?” Tobin asked no one in particular.

We all paused for a moment to process what she was implying and I know we were silently hoping, praying that they wouldn’t do that to her. That they wouldn’t beat their own child.

“No, there’s no way. She’s told us that they love and support her and that even though they aren’t around much they still care about her.”

“Right, you’re right.”

“It has to be them though, I mean there’s no other explanation. She didn’t have them before or after practice right?” Alex asked.

“No, she didn’t.” Lindsey said solemnly.

“Do you really think parents can just flip a switch? Just like that? Be caring and supportive one minute and violent then next?”

“It’s possible.”

“No, just don’t even go there. I refuse to believe they would do that.”

“We would have seen the bruises if she had them before, since we all change in the same locker room together for practices and games remember?” I said

“Fuck. When I get my hands on them I swear to god...”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence because Y/n walked into the dining hall where we were all gathered.

“Get your hands on who?” She asked quietly

“Kid...”

“Y/n holy shit, thank god.”

“And she lives!... not the time? Got it.”

“Y/N... we need to talk.”

“Why? There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t know what Ali told you, but I don’t know where these fucking bruises came from okay? I don’t know. I’m sorry, I know that probably isn’t what you wanted to hear but it’s the truth. If you don’t believe me that’s fine but i’m not talking about it anymore.”

“Sweetie please just hear us out okay? We’re worried about you and getting defensive about them isn’t helping your case.” I said, trying to reach out for her but she backed away from me.

“Defensive? I’m just upset because you all still don’t seem to get it.”

“We want to get it, please just talk to us.”

“No.”

“Y/N, please just...”

“No! Okay, just no. I said we weren’t talking about it again and that’s final. What happened to “I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.” Huh, Ali? Good to know that was complete bullshit.”

“I’m sorry baby, please believe me, we just...”

“Oh believe you? For what? You clearly still don’t believe me so why should I give you that courtesy? You know what, this is all just fucking stupid anyways. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

And with that she disappeared up to the room she’s sharing with Ali. Leaving us all more confused and concerned than ever.

“Well... that went well.”

“Shut up Emily, so not the time.”

//End

Okay so yes that is yet another cliffhanger of sorts, I’m sorry but I thought that was a good place to end it. Just know that Y/N genuinely doesn’t remember a lot of what’s going on, just like she says. Her parents are definitely sus asf.

I’m actually writing part 3 rn so that should be up within the next day or so. I know I keep disappearing but my life is totally a mess rn lol. I’m back now tho and am excited to finally get to all the requests I have. Im so sorry for those waiting I haven’t forgotten. Promise.

-N

Not edited.

#uswnt imagines #uswnt #christen press #alex morgan #imagines #uswnt x reader #megan rapinoe #ashlyn harris #ali krieger #tobin heath #lindsey horan #emily sonnett #mal pugh #The rest of the team will appear #baby reader #USWNT

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

shut in [epilogue]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: anxiety, ptsd, swearing

Word count: 4k

A/N: annnnd we’re done :)) thank you to my resident bully @midnightsunfae for really getting this fic off the ground and helping with the planning. ily upo and thank you to everyone who’s read this series over the 5 months it’s been going on. it’s meant the absolute world to me :’)

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, an indicator of the nervousness that was building to a crescendo in your chest.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked, hand placed gently on your forearm.

You nodded, eyes downcast. If you looked at him, you wouldn’t be able to find it in yourself to follow through with it.

“I am,” you said quietly, swallowing to get rid of the lump in your throat.

“Okay,” he confirmed, letting his arm drop gently.

Ten minutes to go. You took a sip of water nervously. The glass had already found itself shifting back and forth on the table in search of the perfect place. It was a fruitless quest anyway.

The door was painted a dark green, steps leading up to it from the pavement.

“Are you sure he won’t mind?” you asked quietly, standing a stair below him in apprehension. Neither of you had contacted him or sent a message, just showed up at his place exhausted and covered in a thin layer of dirt.

“I know he won’t.” Sam raised his fist to knock thrice, a pause before knocking two more times.

A code.

He turned around slightly, checking to see if you were fine. The longer you stood out there, the more afraid you were of someone spotting the both of you, putting an end to your life before it even began. You had a feeling that paranoia would continue for a long time.

The door swung open, revealing a tall man with blonde hair leaning against the doorway with one arm. There was a nick above his eyebrow, an old scar that hadn’t faded over time. Even though his other hand was concealed behind the door, you could tell that he was holding something by the way his muscles were clenched. Years of training wouldn’t disappear overnight.

"Sam." Surprise overtook his face in a second. "You're alive."

"Don't sound so happy, I can't handle it." Sam rolled his eyes, an affectionate smile on his face. "This is Y/N, we need a place to stay."

“It’s just been a while since I heard from you, man. Coming from a hit?” Riley didn’t think twice about moving aside, scrutinising dried blood on your person as you walk past. “Nice to meet you, I’m Riley.”

It was a cane in his hand. Sam’s mention of his limp flashed in your mind.

You gave him a small wave and a quiet re-introduction of yourself, following Sam into the house.

“You could say that.” Sam paused, a hand on Riley’s shoulder as he says something out of your ear shot to him.

Riley’s face turned stoic immediately, a nod of his head and a deep exhale soon following. “Stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you.” You pressed your lips together in a straight line with a corner quirked upwards, a half smile of sorts.

“Bathroom’s down the hall, to the right.” He pointed out the direction. “I’m getting you some food. Gumbo still your thing, Wilson?”

“Anything other than peanut butter.”

Riley was a blessing you could have never prepared for; knowing exactly what you both would need and anticipating emotions you had no idea you’d be feeling. For someone who had guests show up completely uninvited to crash on his couch, he was ready as ever, given that he had been through the same thing a while ago.

It was difficult. Fuck that, it was one of the hardest things to go; not pretending like everything around you would fall into soon and that you would be fine because you had to. You had worked too damn hard for you not to be.

But you knew things weren’t going to be fine right off the bat and it would be foolish to think it was.

“Sam, look at me,” you commanded gently, but there was an edge of firmness to your tone. You were sitting on the bench near the entrance of the park.

“I’m sorry, things were going good and I thought-” He shook his face that was hiding in his palm, elbows resting on his knees.

His attacks didn’t come nearly as frequently as yours. It was easy to think that he had no trauma just because he learnt how to deal with it better.

“Look at me, Sammy.” It was just a walk in the park, a stroll that should have lasted twenty minutes tops. You had been on that trail before for the same purpose but something triggered him today, someone’s gaze who lingered too long on the both of you.

He clenched his fists, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

“Breathe with me.” You exaggerated the movements to have him follow, a system the both of you had come up with when anxiety attacks used to hit at random. A temporary solution to an aftermath that would go on for hours, days even.

It took him a few staggered breaths to get there, finally falling into routine with you. He could feel his heartbeat slow to what it was but the pit in his stomach wouldn’t subside for a while.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” you reassured, still making sure he was breathing with you. You were nervous too and your eyes were still darting about to survey your surroundings, but he needed you at that moment. “We’re safe. We’re okay.”

“No one’s here,” he mumbles, interlacing your fingers and bringing it to his forehead to lean against your hand.

“We’re okay,” you repeated, giving him the space he needed. “We’re okay.”

“Will someone be joining you?” The waiter prodded softly. If it wasn’t your incessant tapping at the table, the clammy palms and constant checking of your watch was a clear giveaway that you could use a bit of kindness that day.

“Yeah, any minute now.” You smiled at her. She simply nodded, refilling your glass of water before leaving you alone.

You looked at your watch and sighed.

Seven minutes.

Things were fine. Things were good.

Sam and you were… undefined. Labels almost seemed too constrictive for now and it wasn’t like the both of you didn’t know what the other felt. It was kind. It was soft. Sometimes you kissed his cheek when the sunlight bounced off his face while he watered the succulents and the smile he gave you was addictive. Other times he snaked an arm around your waist and leaned his head on your shoulder while you watched the street from the kitchen window.

It made you happy, and so you tried to force away the stem of doubt that creeped into your heart.

Riley had introduced the concept of movie nights and the occasional mob movie would make it in there just to poke fun at. He showed you around the city, inviting you to go grocery shopping with him at the farmers market, the best places to get a glimpse of the music scene or to subtly point out potential date night spots.

He was a genuinely nice guy, and if you thought Sam was fun to hang out with, you were not prepared for the both of them together. You could tell why Sam adored him.

“Y/N, I don’t know how you stayed with him for all that time and didn’t murder him in his sleep.” Riley glared at Sam who had once again left his collection of music CDs strewn around on a couch. It was all in jest; it was well known that Sam found an anchor in music that kept him up late at night for a sense of calm.

“It was a close call sometimes,” you added playfully, giving Sam a grin.

“You weren’t exactly easy to survive with either.” He scoffed. “How many times did we watch Megamind in a row? Eight?”

“You wouldn’t stop watching Die Hard,” you accused, arms crossed over your chest. “It was payback.”

“You made the rule saying we couldn’t watch things more than twice in a row and you broke it first.”

“I’m gonna go,” Riley interjected. “But y’all keep at this. I heard it’s good for your soul.”

“Stay there,” Sam demanded, pointing to where he was standing a second ago. “You’re gonna be play judge since you started this shit.”

“I really don’t want to.” He shook his head, staying put nonetheless, amusement clear as day on his face.

“The laundry.”

“The dishes.”

You both narrowed your eyes at each other. His argument didn’t hold a match to yours.

“You know what, I was wrong,” Riley announced to no one in particular. “I’m pretty sure you guys would kill each other under any other circumstance.”

The smile on your face faltered but you straightened it back out with a clearing of your throat before firing a comeback.

It was barely a second, almost unnoticeable. But Sam caught it.

Four minutes.

Almost time.

The tapping became more intense, and the rate at which you pulled out your phone to check the time increased.

Fuck, this was a bad idea. How were you supposed to behave with him after all this time?

Something was wrong. Something was off.

Sam wasn’t blind to it. He could see it under the smile you eased into at game night, the complaining when too much food was ordered for three people to eat, the good natured teasing when he rolled over to your side of the bed at night to steal your blanket.

Something was eating at you, gnawing at you from the inside.

His suspicion was confirmed when you whispered at 2am one night to what you thought was an asleep partner that you wanted to move out. Find a place of your own.

His stomach dropped instantly but he didn’t so much as move a muscle.

“I need to get out. I need to have a life,” you sniffed, doing your best not to wake him up as you traced circles into his skin lightly. “I don’t know what it’s like to be independent. I won’t know unless I figure it out myself.”

The air had a chill to it and it was one of the times you had asked him to sleep in the guest bedroom with you instead of on his own, knowing that it was one of those nights where you could use a little extra warmth.

“Even when we were in there I couldn’t stop thinking about whether this thing between us was just because we were forced to stay together. You said it wasn’t, and I know that but I can’t help but think-” Your voice cracked. “Would you come back to me if things were different?”

He didn’t answer, even though he knew what he wanted to say with all the certainty in the world. Your fingers continued to draw on his skin. He continued to let you.

Sam didn’t even bring up the conversation that morning, or that week. Instead, he held you a bit closer whenever he could and gave you the space to hopefully open up to him on your own time, letting you know that he’d be there to listen.

It took a while. You both were in the middle of watching a movie that wasn’t Die Hard when you told him that you needed to talk to him about something. The hesitancy in your voice and the fixation your fingers had with the hem of your sweater was painful to witness.

He understood, of course. He always did. That you needed to experience what it was like to live, not survive. That decades of living with other kids, living under an abuser, living in a safehouse for months, was restrictive and suffocating and you needed to find what made you happy.

And so did he. It was something both of you had to do eventually, exit the bubble you had been staying in under such ardent protection for those two months.

Riley was wonderfully supportive of it, vowing to find you the best apartment that New Orleans had to offer. You didn’t doubt it.

His place had been colourful and bright and everything you could have asked for after the monotone walls you were used to. But it wasn’t yours.

A few weeks later you had moved out. Sam left a lingering kiss on your forehead, a sign to say that he’d be here whenever, whatever.

You made a Shakira joke. He laughed.

A completely fresh new start. If you failed now, it was all on you.

And what a terrifying thought that was.

It had been four months since you had left Riley’s apartment behind.

Four months since you had seen either of them.

The cafe was starting to feel too small for this event. Too intimate, too-

When the bell above the cafe chimes, something at the back of your mind instantly wakes up, sending you on high alert.

“Y/N?” he called out from behind you.

You knew he’d be early.

“Sam.” You breathed out, standing up to face him.

Video calls didn’t do him any justice. He had a particular glow to him, an aura of confidence that wasn’t there the last time you saw him. His beard was neatly trimmed and the smile that tugged at his lips the minute you caught his eye was beautiful.

You didn’t realise how different he looked until the time apart. Months of makeshift workouts and peanut butter as your only source of protein had done a number on him. You remembered him being leaner, and what you now realised was the constant burden of fatigue on his face.

“You look good.” An understatement escaped you, but he did.

He had a deep blue shirt on that hugged him in all the right places. Months of seeing him only black and grey had you damn near drooling when he wore other colours after you got out.

Not that you were staring, but his biceps had definitely made a wonderful return.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Sam sent you a smile that instantly put you at ease. “Independence looks good on you, sweetheart.”

You gave a small laugh, gesturing for him to take a seat. Should you have hugged him? Shook his hand? Kissed hi-

“It’s been a while,” he politely interrupted your overthinking. “How are things going?”

You let out a small breath. It was a big question, one that you had answered over text and call a few times but it was different now. He was in front of you now and you couldn’t bullshit the way you used to on call occasionally.

“Weird,” you admitted. “I don’t know what to do with myself now that I have all this time.”

“It takes some gettin’ used to.” He nodded in agreement, leaning back in his chair.

A lot of your time went into trying new hobbies. Knitting, pottery, drawing- anything that you could get your hands on. Things didn’t always catch on, some discarded just after the first week. Others stuck, bringing you bits of triumph every time you moved forward with your newfound skill.

“You still seein’ your therapist?” He flashed a smile at the waitress who filled his glass of water.

Ah, yes. Dr. Bishop had been one of the first people you sought out.

“Yeah.” You took a sip of water. “See her weekly.”

You still had money left over from all the hit jobs that you had done. As much as you wanted to leave every inkling of that life behind, you needed the cash to live. You had enough for the time being, but you knew that eventually you had to start working; if not for the money then for the peace of mind.

“How’s that goin’?”

“She thinks I talk in elaborate metaphors. The gang’s what I call my toxic family, he was my abusive father, stuff like that.”

There were moments where you thought you saw someone you knew standing at a corner, vendors giving you icy looks from across the street, footsteps outside your door that seemed too damn loud. But nothing ever came of it.

“Thanks for the tip, by the way.” You extended a smile to him in appreciation for the idea.

“Worked with my therapist, figured it would be the same with yours.” He shrugged casually. It wasn’t like you wanted to lie to her, and you weren’t. But some things were better left in the dark.

“But I think it’s helping.” You exhaled deeply, eyes downcast. “The nightmares are reducing.”

“That’s a lot of progress.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward in pride.

Several feelings erupted from that look, some that you’d spend the whole day revelling in if you didn’t force yourself to move on.

“How about you?” you diverted the subject back to him. “How’s Riley?”

“He says he misses ya.” Sam laughed. “Says he can’t handle me alone, that he needs you back to save him.”

“What have you been doing to that poor man?” you teased, easing back into your seat. “He was fine when I left him.”

“He’s got a fancy new job now and it’s been going to his head. Needed a little humbling.”

“You’re not going too hard on him, are you?” Even though you knew he wasn’t, it was fun to make sure.

“Nah, I’d say it’s just about the right amount.” Sam grinned and you felt the familiar flutter return to your stomach. “I’ve been doing good. Working on getting my license.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that going?” You were thrilled when he said he was going to look into becoming a youth counselor, knowing that it was something he had been genuinely wanting to do for ages.

“With my background, or lack of it, it’s a little trickier than I thought it would be,” he divulges a bit more seriously. “Riley’s been pulling a few strings and I got a few contacts but it’s gonna take some more time.”

You bit your lip, worry rising for him. He deserved it, he earned it. It fucking sucked that it wasn’t going to be an easy, direct path.

“We’ll figure it out,” you said quietly, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his in reassurance.

The contact brings with it a small spark. You wondered if he still felt it.

“Yeah. We will.” He sent you a soft smile at your action, not making any effort to move it. “You been on any dates lately?”

You let out a snort at that. “Loads. Have fellas lining up at every corner for me.”

“I bet.” He’s more bold, a bit more open than he was in the first month when you both got out. “How many of them do I have to fight off?”

“I’d say six as a rough estimate.” Your expression mimicked one of consideration. “I hope you’ve been getting your hours in at the gym.”

“I’ll kick it up a notch,” he promised, hands raised in surrender.

“You better. We’re supposed to go for laser-tag.” A dumb callback to a joke he made on one of your last days there.

“Or paintball.” He remembered. It made you unnecessarily giddy. “I added an escape room to the list too.”

“Hilarious,” you fired at him, rolling your eyes slightly but the happiness on your face proved otherwise.

His laughter died down eventually, paving the way for the comfortable silence that lingered between you both. Your eyes fell down to where your hand still held his, biting your lip to conceal a smile.

“Y/N,” he called out, pulling your gaze back to his. “Jokes aside… how are you?”

You let out a breath at his question. You knew it was coming.

“Riley found me an apartment,” you murmured.

Sam looked up from his phone. “Yeah?”

“It’s a nice place. Lots of sunlight. Quiet too.” You toyed with your fingers. “But it’s about an hour away. More if you consider traffic.”

Sam set his phone down gently on the bedside table, indicating that you had his full attention.

“I don’t want you to think I’m abandoning you, because I’m not. I wouldn’t, I just-”

“Hey,” he interrupted calmly, twisting his body to face you. “I don’t think you’re abandoning me. If this is what you need, then you should do it.”

“I don’t know if this is what I need. I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve never been-” the frustration in your voice only increased as you went on. “-I don’t even know if this is going to work. What if I hate it?”

“Finding out what you hate is just as important as what you like, I think.” He watched you toy with the fidget square he had gotten you. “And you know that if you don’t feel like it, then you can come back here at any moment.”

“I know.” It was a comforting thought. A safety net.

“But would this make you happy?” That caught you by surprise.

It wasn’t something you had thought of. You thought of the negative consequences, the devastating effects it could have on you, how it could be the worst possible decision you’d ever make.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, a new anxiety setting in. “I guess we’ll see.”

You liked the neighbours who played the piano way too loud at 2am, the really terrible coffee at the therapist’s office and the feeling the paper plane on your dresser gave you when you occasionally looked at it.

You didn’t like how hot the apartment could get, especially during the afternoon, or the guy who sold magazines down the street who cursed at everyone for no reason, or the gentrified Indian food they served at the mall.

But Sam was right. Figuring out what you didn’t like was just as beautiful a journey as figuring out what you did.

“I’m happy.” You breathed out. “Or I'm working towards being happy. But it’s there.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. Simply slipped his palm under yours to lift your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m proud of you.”

If anyone could feel the heat that rose to your face they would probably think you had a fever.

The fear that you had, the one of what things would be like if you weren’t forced to survive in a confined space together, had begun to fade the minute he called out your name that day.

It was Sam. Your Sam.

You shake yourself out of your train of thought with a small smile, making a move to gather up your belongings without letting go of his hand for a second.

“Well, c’mon then. Those paintballs aren’t going to shoot themselves.”

“Are you saying this is a date?” There was a smirk on his face that wasn’t there a minute ago.

“Would you still consider it one once I annihilate you?” You tilted your head in a challenge.

“That would never happen, first of all.” He scoffed. “Second… I was thinking that maybe we could do something normal for a change.”

That had you more interested than the prospect of adventure sports. You had enough of it for a lifetime, frankly speaking.

“Lead the way, Cinnamon.” He only rolled his eyes at the nickname, sending you a vaguely threatening look. You just laughed.

“This place got good coffee?” He looked around at the establishment and its patrons.

“One of the best.”

“Then I don’t see why we have to go anywhere else,” he offered and you nodded, relaxing back into your place with the same sense of warmth in your heart that only intensified with his proposal.

He raised his hand up to flag the server, the same girl who had been helping you out since you got there, asking for two menus.

The smile he sent her was infectious. It was good.

“Sam,” you began quietly. “I missed you.”

His eyes softened, the sunlight reflecting in it making it shine like dravite. “I missed you, too.”

“Ready to order?” The waitress stands beside you with a notepad.

He looked at you and you nodded with a smile.

Things were different. You were different.

And he still came back to you.

--fin--

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <3

thank you so much for reading!

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volleychumps · 4 years

Note

hi!! i just wanna say i love your writings sm!! and umm,, is it okay if i request a scenario/headcanon of oikawa's reaction about finding out his gf who is sugawara's younger sister and sugawara's reaction finding out that his sister and oikawa is in a relationship? oh, sugawara found out when karasuno was first meeting seijoh for the practice match! if you dont mind doing this and i hope its not too confusing and too much;; ps. i really really really LOVE your writings! keep up the good work!!

Your Boyfriend’s Who? (Oikawa x reader)

the one in which Sugawara finds out his little sister is dating the star setter of Aoba Joshai~

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

“Suga! What did you do to make Y/N cry again?”

“What are you-?” The gray-haired setter narrows his eyes at your sniffling figure behind the back of his team captain, hanging his head before releasing a deep sigh when you grin, signaling they had been crocodile tears all along. Daichi continues to stare at him scarily with crossed arms as you tug on the captain’s sleeve “sadly”.

“I told her she had to sit in the stands and not bother those three on the lineup!” Suga juts his chin in the direction of said three as Ennoshita boos along with Narita and Kinoshita.

“Booooo, we already told you she wouldn’t bother us.”

“Y/N could always sit with me.” Kiyoko pipes up and your eyes glimmer with hope as Suga groans dramatically with a hand on his forehead as the team finishes unloading their stuff from the bus.

“Kiyoko please not you too-”

“The council has spoken!” Tanaka booms as he lift you up onto his shoulders, your fellow first years holding in their laughs at the look of dismay on Tsukishima’s face as passerbys ogle the team oddly.

“What are you even doing here?” Suga questions with an eyebrow arched, and you grin a little sheepishly as you rest your chin on Tanaka’s shaved head. Daichi palms his face, wondering why your brother wouldn’t ask that question as soon as he saw you on the bus.

“Um, when you asked mom to sign that paper excusing you from classes she signed one for me too-”

“Mom what-”

“She’s smart. Let her have this.” Tanaka sticks his tongue out as you mirror that action, and Suga groans as Daichi sends you a look saying don’t do it again.

“Sorry Suga-nii.” You mock pout at your brother’s defeat as Suga clicks his tongue, but says nothing as you all file into the practice court, your face blanching when you realize just what school you had snuck your way into.

“On second thought, I want to go sit in the stands with the rest of the audience-”

“What? No, stay- you gave everyone the trouble.” Suga scolds as he sits you down on the bench next to Kiyoko like a child. “Now don’t make even more.”

At your pout, Suga hesitates before kissing the top of your head and jogging off to the court. “Be good. Watch her like a hawk, Kiyoko.”

“Stop acting like I’m some sort of criminal!”

“You are a criminal.” Suga calls back as you deflate, Kiyoko giggling by your side as she tilts her head in question.

“Why would you want to go sit in the stands, Y/N-chan? Didn’t you want to watch up close?”

“That was before I realized what school Karasuno had a practice match with.” You look around nervously, deeming it fine as long as that certain someone took a hint and didn’t approach you during the match.

“What’s wrong with Seijoh?” Kiyoko questions further as you lean into her shoulder as the team begins warming up, and you let out a nervous chuckle before leaning in to whisper in her ear, cupping your mouth.

“My boyfriend goes here, and he may or may not be on Aoba Joshai’s volleyball team-”

“You have a boy-?!”

“Sh!” You put a finger to your lips, glancing around worriedly before nodding your head yes. “But I don’t think he’s dumb enough to come up to me-”

“Think? Suga and Daichi would rip him to shreds!”

“True, but I’d like to give him a smidge of credit.” You shrug, frowning in worry as Seijoh comes out onto the court, the bestfriend of your boyfriend raising his eyebrows in surprise as Iwaizumi stalls for a second.

You panic when Hanamaki and Matsukawa raise a hand to you in greeting, grins faltering when you make a cutting motion with your hand across your neck, waving it back and forth while mouthing you don’t know me.

Looks of realization pass the third-years faces as Matsukawa and Hanamaki laugh, Iwaizumi sighing and hanging his head while massaging his temple. You grin nervously as Iwaizumi sends you a message, tapping away on his phone.

Your team doesn’t know?

-Worse, my team and my brother don’t know.

You’re so dead.

-Where even is he?

Coming l8r.

-That’s good then, right?

Iwaizumi pockets his phone into his gym bag after scoffing at your message, shooting you a warning look like this won’t end well as you wave it off, the match finally starting after Karasuno finishes warming up.

You keep worriedly glancing at the entrances to the school as Hinata and Kageyama help pull a good lead over the opposing team, Kiyoko not being able to hide her hum of amusement.

“Scared?”

“Very.” You bite your thumb, noticing that the game was near it’s end before relaxing a little. “Maybe he won’t even play-?”

“Coach! I’m here!”

“Ooooor maybe not.” You sink in your seat, spinning around in the other direction to face away from Oikawa Tooru as Kiyoko lets loose a few more giggles.

“That’s him?”

“...yeah.” You cover your face in embarrassment as you wonder if this was the day your brother finally disowned you.

“He’s...a crazy good player.” You hear Takeda-sensei mumble, and you can’t help but glance behind you to see your boyfriend in action. To your absolute dismay, chocolate eyes met yours as you spin back around quickly, heart hammering in your chest after seeing that Oikawa had smiled immediately at the sight of you.

“...he saw you, didn’t he?” Kiyoko whispers as you nod, saying your prayers as the game finally ends. You flinch when Suga’s voice sounds behind you, the players all gathering around for towels and water as you sheepishly turn back around for the umpteenth time.

“What’s with you, oh wonderful sibling of mine?” Suga quips, handing you one of the few juices in the cooler as you laugh, a bit too loudly before poking the hole with the straw.

“Nothing. Good job win-huh?” Your eyes widen when you see that the score gap had been lessened drastically, Karasuno just barely pulling ahead by a few points as pride flutters in your stomach at your boyfriend’s doing.

“Ugh, I’m tired.” Suga collapses next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder as you go to shove him off.

“You didn’t even play-”

“Just shut up and let me sleep.”

“Y/N, what do you wanna eat-?” Daichi begins to question, before a voice so familiar sounds that almost has you running out of your seat, not prepared at all.

“You came with the team to see me, Y/N-chan?” Oikawa’s head pops up between Kageyama and Tsukishima, easy grin faltering at the sight of your brother’s head on your shoulder.

Oh this would not end well at all.

“Y/N...chan...?” Suga lifts his head, eyes questioning as he turns to you. “You know him?”

“I’d appreciate it if you weren’t so buddy-buddy with my girlfriend, you a classmate of hers?” Oikawa tilts his head, grinning with no kindness behind it as you put your face in your hands.

You can feel Suga’s burning stare as you escape to hide behind a sighing Kiyoko, the entire Karasuno team on edge as Sugawara rises to his feet, holding a hand out to your boyfriend with a matching grin.

“Try her brother.”

Oikawa’s face falls, and in any other situation, you would have laughed.

“You...have a brother?”

“You’re dating the setter of Seijoh?!”

“Ladies please, not all at once.” You attempt to joke, Tanaka the only one to throw his head back in laughter as Kiyoko stifles a laugh into her palm.

“Okay, yes to both of you.” You go to stand next to Oikawa with a sigh, looping your arm with his before offering a sheepish smile. The cat was out of the bag, anyways. “Everyone, meet Oikawa Tooru, my acquaintance-”

“Her boyfriend. Pleasure to meet everyone!” Oikawa corrects as you nudge him, the setter moving to interlace your fingers with his before pulling you to his side, eyes narrowing at the sight of Kageyama.

“Nice to see you again, Kageyama-Kun.”

You sigh at the fact that there was more tension between him and his junior than there was with your brother before swatting Oikawa in the side, him whining before pouting at you.

“Do you even love me?!”

“Of course I do...don’t. Of course I don’t.” You falter at the hardened gazes of both Daichi and Suga as Tsukishima whistles lowly, enjoying the drama as Yamaguchi nudges him in disapproval.

The silence that settles isn’t a pretty one as Oikawa chuckles a tad nervously, kissing your cheek before spinning on his heel.

“I’ll take you out after this-?”

“She’ll be eating with us, thanks though.” Daichi cuts him off as you groan, mouthing a yes behind his back before Oikawa’s lips stretch into a half-smile before nodding once to your brother. He waves backwards as he walks off to his team.

You smile in thanks to both Hanamaki and Matsukawa who were both sending sorry stares to you while Iwaizumi rightfully hit Oikawa upside the head for his stupidity, scolding him about telling him not to as Oikawa whines.

“So,”

You hide even further behind Kiyoko with a I can explain kind of smile fills your features as Suga crosses his arms, the entire Karasuno team looking at you in accusation. Your brother’s lips stretch into a kind smile as he tilts his head, Daichi and Kageyama crossing their arms beside him.

“You have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Before or after my date with my hot setter boyfriend-”

Needless to say, the surprise meeting between your brother and boyfriend from rival teams did not go over the team of Karasuno too well.

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

General works: @takemetovalhalla @savemesteeb @dreebbles @kasandrafaye @yams046

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu anime #haikyuu sugawara #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu suga #sugawara koushi #oikawa toru #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa x reader #haikyuu karasuno #karasuno #seijoh #Aoba Johsai #haikyuu aoba johsai

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

Old Friends ~ JJK [Request]

WORD COUNT: 2k

PAIRING: Jungkook x Reader

GENRE: old friends to lovers, angst (not involving Jungkook) fluffy ending

WARNING: Mentions of knives, life endangerment, blood

All anyone ever wanted from you was your money, all they ever wanted to do was use you for what you had. It was exhausting constantly having to watch your back for someone who might double-cross you.

"We'll see you Monday," Your lawyer announced as you began to walk out of your home office with him. They were there to help you with a problem, one of your so-called friends had been stealing money from you and the businesses that you ran. There was a reason never to hire friends to work for you.

"You look tired, you should get some sleep." Your live-in maid said as she saw you walking towards the staircase of your home. Glancing over at her you smiled weakly,

"I will. I just need something to eat first." You mumbled before walking down the spiral staircase to see your lawyer out and finally have something to it. You felt as though you hadn't eaten all day. You'd been in and out of business meetings at the office and when you finally got home you were doing the same thing all over again.

Strolling down the corridor toward the kitchen you froze when you saw one of the guest bedroom doors were open. It wouldn't have been Roseanne as she shut and locked every door that she entered.

Slowly pushing it open you frowned seeing the state of the room, clothes were strewn about all over the floor. It looked as if someone had been living in the room without you knowing about it.

As you were about to turn around to find Roseanne someone came out of the bathroom door and you screamed.

"Shit! Miss Y/L/n," Jungkook, one of the men that worked inside of your house began to blush and apologise over and over again. Jungkook had been working for you for almost 12 years, he'd started working in your family when you were 18 and continued to work with you when the rest of your family had passed.

"Jungkook. What are you doing?" You questioned as you covered your eyes and began to head for the exit. Though he was covered by a towel you weren't going to stare at him the entire time.

"I'm sorry Y/n, I didn't have anywhere to go, I thought it would-"

"Just...Just get changed and talk to me outside," You giggled a little at the thought of him stammering over his words around you. The two of you had practically known each other your whole lives. Even when he didn't work for your family his mother and father did.

"Here," You pushed some food in front of Jungkook with a mug of hot chocolate and sat down at the table. The two of you hadn't sat down to talk like this in almost five years, it felt weird to you doing it now.

"I needed a place to stay," He told you as he looked at the food, debating whether or not to eat it.

"You could have told me. I would have given you a better room than the smaller guest bedroom." Jungkook knew that you were kind to him but he never wanted to impose himself upon you,

"Y/n, I never wanted you to think-"

"That you were using me?" You questioned as you looked up at him. Taking a chip from his plate and giving it to yourself.

"You know I would never accuse you of something like that Kookie," A blush began to creep up on Jungkook's cheeks as he heard the nickname you used to use for him. It had been too long since he had the name fall from your lips.

"You haven't called me that in years," He laughed softly as he looked up at you. The first time he'd really looked at you and taken in your appearance for a while.

You'd changed so much from the last time he'd sat down with you like this. You were matured, beautiful but you still had that goofy smile that he loved so much.

"I haven't seen you in years...You're always too busy." You laughed as you sipped on your drink. The two of you had barely seen one another since both of your families passed away.

"I'm too busy? I think the woman who runs multiple businesses and manages an empire is busier than me." He scoffed shaking his head at you,

"I do not manage an empire and they're not my businesses, they were my fathers." You reminded him as you began to play with the cup in front of you. The subject of your father was always a tricky one between the two of you. He'd always hated Jungkook because he knew of your strong feelings toward him and forbade you from ever pursuing them.

"I'm sorry about that...Again," Jungkook whispered as he remembered when your dad had passed away. The man had left everything to you in his will which you hated him for.

Everything he knew that you didn't want he gave to you. This was never the life you wanted. Always having to watch your back in case someone was going to stab you in it. You'd seen how crazy it had driven your father and it was as if this was all some kind of sick joke to him to make you deal with it.

"It's not your fault he died." You mumbled as you looked up at him. He'd gotten so skinny it was a wonder why you had never noticed it before. You'd wondered why he never tried to come to you for help in the first place.

"You're going to stay in the guest room upstairs," You ordered him as you began to eat casually. Jungkook knew never to disobey you, you always won arguments with him anyway.

"Fine, but you have to take money for rent out of my payments." You shook your head at him.

"No, because then how are you going to find your own place?" He glared at you playfully throwing a chip at your forehead as you screamed out.

"Hey!" You laughed picking up a chip from your own plate and throwing it back at him,

"No fair." He chuckled doing it again.

The two of you sat throwing food back and forth at one another until Roseanne came into the kitchen. Laughing to herself when she saw the two of you together for the first time in a long time.

"Having fun?" She laughed when she saw you both giggling with one another.

"Too much fun, I'm sorry about the mess. Let me help," You told her as you began to go over to the mess you had left around the kitchen.

"No, no, both of you should go and wash up and go to sleep. It's late." Smiling at her you and Jungkook began to head up the stairs toward the guest bedrooms and your own.

The longer Jungkook stayed with you the more you began to feel young again. Everything felt as though you had gone back in time to when you were 18 and having fun. With Jungkook around, you didn't have to worry about him using you for money or only being there because you paid him to. The two of you genuinely enjoyed being around one another.

"Hey I made us popcorn withmelted chocolate," You called out from the kitchen to who you thought was Jungkook coming into the house.

"Kookie?" You laughed moving out from the kitchen to greet him when you saw your ex-boyfriend. The bowl dropped from your hand smashing against the hardwood floor.

"It's a pleasure to see you too," He smirked as he walked over to you, taking your body into his and hugged you tightly. You froze in place. Terrified to even move an inch as you felt his arms around you.

"Who's Kookie?" You moved away from him the second his arms released you. You scolded yourself for not keeping the panic button in your kitchen.

"Y/n! I got us a bunch of Ryan Reynold movies and I-" Jungkook stopped speaking when he saw your Ex standing there. Neither of you knew he'd gotten out of prison.

Your ex was known amongst everyone in Seoul as the Immortal Dragon and had been caught and arrested almost two years ago. Everyone feared him because he was a mafia leader. Killed people for fun and the fact that he was there made you fear everything.

"I heard the funniest rumour while I was in prison," He laughed as he began to walk towards you, picking up a knife from the knife block.

"That the woman I loved and devoted myself to helped keep me in prison." You began to back up toward Jungkook, hoping that the two of you could make it out of the house before your ex did something irrational.

"That's crazy, right? She wouldn't do that to me." The knife he was holding was stabbed into the counter and you flinched. Stepping onto some broken glass and hissing as you felt it pierce your foot.

"Whatever you want, just leave," Jungkook warned as he put you behind him to stop any immediate danger from happening to you.

"You're just the help, you might as well leave. This is between the adults." Jungkook stayed in place as he looked at you and to your ex.

"It's every bit of my business if you're hurting the one I love." He stood his ground even when your ex picked the knife up once again.

"You should leave if you want to continue living."

"You should leave if you're going to continue threatening Jungkook." You snapped as you stepped in front of Jungkook to face your ex. There was no reason you should fear him, he'd proven many times before that he would never hurt a woman.

"I just wanted to know why you turned me in," You scoffed,

"Because you killed people, what other reason is there. You're a sick, twisted mother fucker and I'm glad you got caught." The knife was raised above your head but you didn't move. You stared straight back at him.

"Get out before I call the police." You ordered as he stared back at you, throwing the knife against one of the cupboards and sticking it in place.

"Are you stupid?! What if he'd stabbed you?!" Jungkook panicked as soon as the door to your house shut and he was gone. Jungkook took you into his arms, pressing your head against his chest.

"He'd never hurt a woman," You mumbled as he began kissing the top of your head. Your hurt fluttering from each and every small kiss he gave to you.

"You don't know that, you could have been hurt," He whispered as you both sat on the sofa together.

"I'm fine Kookie," You pulled away from his chest and looked at him as he blushed. The thought of something happening to you killing him inside.

"I don't know what I would have done if he hurt you," He mumbled and you smiled reaching up to touch his cheek.

"I don't know what I would have done." You counted, kissing his lips softly. Jungkook's eyes widened before he relaxed, bringing you closer to him as he kissed you back.

"I guess that means you still have feelings," He mumbled against your lips as you pulled away for air,

"It does." You breathed out, pushing your hands into his hair and pulling him to lay down on the sofa with you.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @taestannie @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block @acciocriativity @taeechwitaa @mwitsmejk @justbangtanthingz @stillwithlix

#bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts imagine #bts imagines #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jugnkook imagines

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nctsjiho · 3 years

Text

Resolve [Part 2 of ‘Explode’]

Click here for part 1

warnings: none, it’s just a bit longer and the angst of part 1 continues so...

❀ Taeyong decides it’s time for Dream and JiHo to make an end to their fight

JiHo had spent the night over at WayV’s dorm. The chance of seeing Haechan after practise had ended wasn’t one she was willing to take. Johnny had sent Haechan over to the Dream dorm since he wanted the boys to reflect on what they had done and find a way to fix it. He was also slightly agitated and didn’t want to risk yelling at Haechan if he started whining.

A bit after JiHo had left the practise room, the dance instructor came back and had asked where the girl was and why everyone was looking so down. Doyoung had to explain the whole situation which brought the mood down even more. The rest of practise was a nightmare. It felt like it was never going to end. It also made some of the boys realise how JiHo not being there didn’t make much of a difference visually. Realising how JiHo literally wasn’t in any of the unit groups besides the OT24 group dance and some B-tracks which were never going to be performed live. But not having her there did still hurt, it just didn’t feel right.

Mark had checked up on Dream before heading back to his dorm. They all seemed to be coping with the aftermath differently. The unit’s leader wanted to help, but he also knew the boys were old enough to figure it out by themselves. This wasn’t just a small fight and he didn’t want to get too involved.

At WayV’s dorm things weren’t much better. JiHo had found her place in Ten’s bed, the older boy coming to check on her every so often. She didn’t really talk and at a glance she looked like she was going to be just fine, but the next morning she looked horrible. She didn’t get a wink of sleep and Ten knew, but whenever he tried talking to her she just shrugged him off.

They had breakfast together, Lucas and Yangyang trying to cheer her up with some jokes and when she finally smiled for a second the taller one didn’t hesitate to attack her with a hug. “JiHo please talk to us.” He whined burying his head in the crook of her neck. The girl just sighed and continued playing with the food Kun had prepared for her. “Lucas, let her be for a second.” The oldest said patting Lucas on the shoulder. “Please eat something okay? You haven’t touched any of your food yet.” He tried to coax her into eating and she just nodded before taking her first bite.

There were two options: One, have Dream and JiHo fix their problems on their own accord and suffering the possibility that the fight would not be resolved for months. Which would in turn take a toll on their practise and sabotage their comebacks, team work and a lot more for the whole group. Or two, do like they always have. Involve themselves in their problems to try and fix it as a whole group.

As all of NCT gathered in the practise room, Taeyong had made the choice by himself. Mark had noticed someone wasn’t there yet. “Where’s the choreographer?” He asked and everyone started to notice as well. “He’s coming in 2 hours.” Taeyong said walking to the middle of the room. “Why are we here then? I could’ve gotten at least another hour of sleep.” Lucas whined which earned him a slap to the arm from Kun. “Sit down kids, we have some work to do.”

Everyone had gathered around Taeyong in a circle, all clearly confused. He then looked at the Dream members who all looked like they either had been crying for hours last night or if they just rolled out of bed after a horrible night of sleep. He motioned for them to sit in the middle of the circle with a finger. They all hesitantly moved over to where Taeyong pointed. The leader’s gaze than settled on JiHo, who surprisingly looked a lot less dead. Taeyong however knew she wasn’t doing so hot because of the updates he received from WayV ever since she decided to sleep over at their dorm.

Without having to say anything she sat down facing the Dream members, her eyes holding no emotion. “Isn’t this a bit unfair? 6 against 1?” She chuckled sarcastically. Taeyong rolled his eyes. “I think what’s unfair is that the fight between the seven of you is bringing down the whole team. Don’t you agree?” JiHo wasn’t one to raise her voice but the leader’s words just didn’t sit right with her. “Excuse me? You act like I did something wrong. I’m the one who got accused for something I didn’t do! I’m the one who had 6 people screaming at me, acting like I’m the bad guy here! And I saw it in your guys’ eyes yesterday that you were starting to think it was true! I-” She stopped herself when she noticed what she was doing. JiHo had stood up and was yelling at their leader, everyone shocked at the sudden (but not surprising) outburst. “I’m sorry.” She gritted her teeth before sitting down again.

Taeyong had to admit that it was wrong of him to act the way he did. JiHo clearly didn’t do anything wrong, but just because this was now a known fact and the misunderstanding had been cleared up, didn’t mean that the conflict was solved. There was still a lot of tension between the two parties and it wasn’t going to get better if they didn’t address it.

“JiHo we’re sorry-” Renjun started, but Haechan quickly interjected. “It’s all my fault. I just heard you talk to Johnny and heard Jisung’s name and then you started talking about a maknae and I just jumped to conclusions, I shouldn’t have. I should’ve asked, but I was too mad...” JiHo couldn’t make eye contact with any of the boys. Jisung spoke up. “I do trust you JiHo, it’s just that-” “How could you say that if you just believed Haechan anyway? You should’ve asked me first.” It was the first time JiHo’s voice had given in. She sounded so hurt and it made all the members feel horrible. “I know... I didn’t believe Haechan at first, but he also wouldn’t lie to me so I felt conflicted.” It was silent for a bit.

“I just felt like no one was on my side. At least you guys have each other...” The older boys couldn’t watch this anymore, it was such a stupid thing to fight about but the implications were so much more serious. The lack of trust, feeling lonely even while having so many people around. “JiHo, you know I knew the truth.” Johnny spoke up. She didn’t dare to look at him. “We didn’t know that you felt that way.” Jaemin added. “But you just got mad at me without telling me why. Starting to ignore me and look at me like you hated me, and no one said anything. And I know it was so obvious that there was something going on but no one tried bringing it up. You all just waited for someone to explode and for us to start fighting.” JiHo was now talking to the older members. “I- I don’t know, I just felt like I wasn’t part of NCT anymore-” With that Haechan, Jisung and Renjun started bawling their eyes out. The damage they did was even worse than they initially thought. “Don’t say that.” Renjun’s voice hitched. He inhaled deeply after each word as if he forgot how to breath.

The other boys had to do everything they could to hold themselves back from going to comfort the younger members, they still had to talk everything through. Some of them even started crying themselves, wondering how it had gotten so far that one of their members didn’t feel like part of the group anymore.

“It’s almost obvious SM doesn’t want me to be in the group anymore. But I couldn’t help but feel like you guys didn’t want me either after what happened yesterday.” The girl had yet to cry even though she sounded so close to breaking down. She had never cried in front of everyone before, always showing her strongest side.

A quivering call of her name left Jisung��s lips. He called out for his precious noona, asking what he could do to make her forgive him. The room stayed quiet for a while, everyone anticipating JiHo’s answer, but it never came. Haechan looked at her with hopeful eyes, moving closer cautiously before resting his hand on hers situated in her lap. Her breath hitched and her body jerked slightly at the sudden touch, causing everyone else to jump a little as well. “I’m sorry you couldn’t trust me-” She choked on her own mixture of words and tears. Haechan immediately pulled the girl into his chest, stroking the girl’s hair as he desperately rambled to her. “It’s not your fault”, “I’m sorry”, “I should’ve talked to you”, “Please don’t leave us”. The sentences became a jumbled mess between his painful cries.

It had become too much for everyone. They were either fighting back tears or openly crying, excusing themselves from the room. Taeyong looked down at the mess he had made, but when he saw all the Dream members surround JiHo and Haechan to apologise and tell her how she was in fact a member of NCT and nothing was going to change that, that’s when the leader realised it might not have been so bad after all. The girl had finally opened up and though just this moment alone wasn’t going to solve everything, at least they knew how she felt and it was a great starting point.

Jisung had taken JiHo’s hands in his holding them tightly as he apologised through tears. She gulped at seeing the younger boy like this and pried one of her hands out of his grip. This caused Jisung to let out a sob as he looked at the girl with a shocked expression, mind racing again with the thought she was still mad at him. She quickly placed her hand on top of his own, her thumb caressing the top of his wrist. “It’s okay Jisung-ah. I would never talk bad about you okay?” She looked at him with red cheeks and teary eyes, still trying to stay strong. He nodded quickly just staring back at her, still apologising.

An hour had passed with the younger members talking things out a bit more, JiHo still felt hurt by their actions the day prior, but she also understood where they were coming from. Dream really cared for each other so it was nice to see them have each other's backs. Jisung had now glued himself to the girl, following her closely everywhere she went until Taeyong had called her to talk for a second. He had to clarify to the youngest that he meant talking to JiHo in private, which caused him to hesitantly walk away.

“I’m sorry JiHo, I didn’t mean to make it look like you caused the fight. I also didn’t mean things to become so messy and most importantly make you feel like you weren’t part of NCT. I did a horrible job as a leader-” The girl interrupted him with a hug, knocking the air out of his lungs. “I know you didn’t mean it. I should’ve told you how I felt earlier. But everything is going to be fine now. Okay?” Her whisper made him feel so much more calm. “Okay.” He answered placing his arms over her shoulders and pulling her closer.

#jiho.writings #nct 24th member #nct addition #nct angst #nct dream angst #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct female member #nct extra member #nct additional member #nct reactions #nct dream reactions #kpop!addition #kpop!oc

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baseballbitch116 · 3 years

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Dixons Next Door - Chapter 4

Introduction: Anna was a small town girl from Atlanta when she became the guardian of her two younger siblings. She was determined to keep them from the same abuse that she endured from her family, so she moved into a small beaten up house just outside the city in 2009. The new neighbors next door - the Dixon brothers - were definitely trouble. She wanted to escape her past, not repeat her parents history with these redneck brothers. Matters only escalate when the news is talking about the possibility of some virus getting out and infecting people… Are Merle and Daryl just as bad as her past? How is she going to keep her brother and sister safe from this virus getting out? What did Anna get herself into?

Setting: Pre-apocalypse

Word Count: 6896

Series Warnings: Offensive language, mentions/suggestion of physical abuse, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, sexual themes, violence & death

Chapter Warnings: Alcohol consumption, drug use, offensive language, assault, violence, sensitive themes - potential trigger warning

A/N: I got a little carried away and made this an extra long chapter, but it’s a good one! There are some sensitive topics in it so this is a trigger warning - it’s nothing too bad but some people may not want to read it. 18+ You’ve been warned.

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I had been cleaning out the pool for the kids while they ate lunch the next time that I was interrupted by Merle. He came over with a beer and hand and stood nearby me, watching silently. I gave him a look but he made no comment, he just sipped on his beer. I sighed and continued skimming the bugs and leaves out of the pool. “Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?” I ask without looking back at him. He chuckles.

“Why ya cleanin it? Just gonna get dirty again?” He asks, ignoring your question. You roll your eyes and smack the skimmer on the ground to get the debris off of it.

“Why shower - just gonna get dirty again.” I remark sarcastically.

“Exactly.” Merle agrees, and I look up in momentary shock before catching the sarcastic smirk on his face. “Ew,” I mutter, tossing the skimmer to the side and throwing the chlorine in the pool.

“So what bar ya work at?” He asks, glancing into the pool for a moment before looking back at you. You want to lie, but there’s literally only two bars in this small town, so it’s not like it matters much.

“Happy Hour Tavern.” I respond, wiping my hands off on my shorts and crossing my arms. “Surprised I haven’t seen ya there yet.” Referring to the beer in his hand at two in the afternoon.

He smirks. “Ya wanna see me there?” He suggests, and I roll my eyes.

“Didn’t say that.”

“Don’t ya worry, sugar. I’ll stop by.” He assures me, and I know he probably will.

“Great,” I mutter, and he chuckles.

“Where ya kids at?” He asks.

“Inside eating.”

“Wanna make me somethin to eat, sugarlips?” He asks flirtatiously. I roll my eyes again and huff.

“My name is Anna, and no, I don’t really have the money to be feeding the neighborhood.” I respond.

“Ain’t the neighborhood, doll. Just a friend.” He winks.

“Oh, so we’re friends?” I ask, shifting my weight.

“Yeah sure. Ya seem to be cozying up to my brother and all, ‘course we’re friends.” He responds sarcastically. The grin is gone from his face and he seems more serious now.

“What?” I ask, baffled by what he means by ‘cozying up to his brother.’

“Don’t play dumb, sweetheart. I saw ya the other day. Got him doing shit for ya, too. Impressive.” He rolls his eyes and takes a large gulp of his beer. Suddenly, the mood shifts, and I feel uncomfortable. Is he angry at me for asking Daryl for help? He is so hard to read, everything was just fine - what happened?

“I needed help lifting a heavy ass box. He was there. Doesn’t mean I’m ‘cozying up to anyone.’” I respond sternly. I don’t like being accused of using people. Merle chuckles.

“Relax, darlin, I ain’t jealous.” He taunts, lifting a hand to shield his eyes and looking up at the sky. “Issa good huntin day, bet he’s goin out there soon. I’ll see ya around, sugarlips.” Merle says as he begins walking away from me, leaving me confused and startled. What the hell just happened?

I began getting texts from my father that same day. I wasn’t entirely surprised, but I knew he wouldn’t go to the cops.

1:04 - Bring back my fuckin kids

1:15 - U ungrateful bitch after all i done 4 u

2:06 - Ima have every1 lookin 4 u

2:10 - U best not let me find u

3:34 - Ima tell the pigs u kidnapped em

4:08 - Just wait til i find u

My brother even texted me a few times, too.

12:30 - Pa’s lookin 4 u. He’s mad

1:10 - U took them? Ur not they momma, u kidnapped em

2:30 - U best bring em back or u’ll regret it Anna

The texts continued on and off throughout the day but I ignored them. My prejudice, abusive family would not get the best of me. He was probably drunk and went to find us to pick a fight and finally noticed we were gone. I couldn’t help but worry about if he ever did manage to find us. We were only a half hour away, it wouldn’t be too hard. It was only a matter of how much he was determined to do so. He’s not a smart man, I doubt he could track us down very easily. Plus, everyone who knew him, hated him. No one who knew us would help him - they would know the kids were safer with me. I’d rather be poor than abused.

Eventually I left my phone on silent and tried to keep my thoughts occupied. I didn’t tell the kids, of course. The kids had been playing in their room for most of the day, having fun with the large box that my bed frame had come in, using it as some sort of rocket or something. So I let them be inside and sat on the front steps to think in peace. I looked up at the sky and willed myself not to cry. They did not deserve my tears. They didn’t even deserve a moment’s thought. I forced myself not to think about all that they had put me through in my childhood. The nights I spent crying myself to sleep on my mattress on the floor. The bruises and scars I hid at school. The lies I told to keep myself from being taken away - only so I could protect my siblings.

My eyes burned as I fought back the tears and I hid my face in my hands on my lap.

“C’mon, Anna. It’s over now.” I mutter to myself, trying to believe my own words. Anger boiled over inside of me at the thought of what my father might do if he found us and took the kids back. I would not let him. Even if it killed me - he would not ruin their lives like he did mine.

A crash of thunder made me jump, bringing me back to the present. I looked up just in time to see Merle approaching from the woods, resheathing a knife on his hip. I figured he was hunting, and that gave me an idea.

“Hey, Merle!” I call out, quickly wiping my face and jumping up to head over to him. He looks pleasantly surprised and stopped in his tracks, smirking as I approached him. “I have a question.”

“Whatcha want, sugar?” He drawls, wiping his hand on a rag from his pocket. I notice a bit of blood and then the bag over his shoulder, making me wince. I didn’t wanna know.

“I wanna get a gun. But I don’t know the first thing about them, and I kinda hoped you did?” I inform him, glancing behind me to make sure the kids hadn’t come out. He chuckles quietly and looks me up and down.

“Whatcha want with a gun?” He asks. I resist getting defensive, sure that he thinks a woman can’t handle one.

“To protect myself. Family problems, let’s leave it at that.” I inform him with a look. “Do you think you could help me?” I plead. I didn’t wanna go into town and get scammed into buying a crappy, overpriced gun. Merle looks at me for a long moment, looking up at the darkening sky before shrugging.

“Come with me.” He responds, nodding toward his house. I look at it then back to him, giving him a sharp look. “I’m serious, ya want me help or not?” He demands. I look back toward my house for a moment before sighing.

“I can’t be long.” I tell him, and he smirks, heading toward his porch. I hesitantly follow behind him, dreading entering his place. Considering the trash and overgrown grass outside, I had a feeling the inside was much worse. I stepped inside the house cautiously, keeping my eye on Merle as I did so. He seemed to be the only one here, which relieved me. If any of those men from the other night were, I would have left. Merle tosses the bag from his shoulder onto an old wooden table and heads down the hall toward a bedroom, leaving me alone. The floor is dirty, there’s an old, stained armed chair in front of a box TV, and there’s stuff scattered everywhere. The place smells a little weird too, but I resist complaining. Merle returns a moment later with a case in hand. “Here,” Merle opens the case and reveals a gun, holding it out to me. It’s a handgun, I know that much. I look up at him and he gives me an impatient look, so I hesitantly grab the gun. It’s heavier than it looks, and I make sure to keep my finger off the trigger. “Ya ever shot one?” He asks, smirking at me.

“Once or twice.” I mumble, having flashbacks to the one time my father tried teaching me how to shoot bottles in the backyard. It wasn’t a fond memory at all…

“Ya can have it, but it’ll cost ya.” He winks.

“How much?” I ask, and he chuckles.

“Ion want ya money,” He drawls, and I immediately frown, thinking I know what he is implying.

“I’m not doing that either,” I scowl, going to hand the gun back to him. He doesn’t take it, chuckling some more.

“Whatcha want a gun for anyway?” He asks. I didn’t want to get into it, but maybe this would be a way around having to do something for him for it. I let out a sigh and looked at the weapon in my hand for a long moment.

“My father,” I start, not meeting his eye. “He’s uh, well he’s a piece of shit basically. I took the kids from him in the middle of the night and got this place, never told anyone where we were going. If he comes around… Well, I’m gonna need this.” I finally look up and meet his eye, exhaling deeply. He looks at me for a long moment, his face expressionless. It’s quiet and I am surprised he doesn’t make any rude or sarcastic comments. He shrugs, placing the case down on the old table.

“Keep it.” He tells me, and I raise my brows at him.

“Really?” I clarify, confused why he changed his mind.

“Ya need it more than I do. Got plenty round here.” He mutters, waving his arm up in no general direction. “I know all about piece of shit fathers.” He continues, giving me a solemn look. “My pops was. You was right, yer gonna need that. So take it, before I change my mind.” He drawls, heading over to their fridge and grabbing a bottle of beer, kicking it shut behind him. I don’t argue, despite being shocked and confused.

“Thank you, Merle.” I give him a sincere smile for the first time, and turn the gun over in my hands to ensure the safety is on.

“Takes 9MM. It’s loaded.” He informs me, plopping into the beaten up chair by the TV and opening his beer, taking a large gulp. I nod slowly and shift my weight, feeling awkward holding the gun but trying not to let him know.

“Okay,” I respond, turning to head out the door as he turns the TV on. “Thanks again.” I holler before I head out the door into the humid air. The sky has gotten very dark with storm clouds and the wind picked up, so I jog across the lawn back to my house and tuck the gun into the back of my shorts, hiding it under my shirt before I walk inside. I don’t need the kids seeing this.

“Anna! Look what we did!” Colton calls out from the hallway with a big grin on his face. I smile back at him and walk down the hall to their room, letting out a dramatic gasp when I see the box colored on with a bunch of random colors. “It’s our rocket!” He exclaims excitedly, rejoining his sister inside the big box.

“Wow! It looks so good guys!” I exclaim, grinning as they go back to their playing. I watch them for a moment before remembering the gun and walking into my own room, placing the gun on the top shelf in the closet. This will have to do until I have more furniture and somewhere safe to keep it.

The texts kept coming throughout the rest of the night.

6:05 - ware tf r my kids

6:43 - dont make me hunt u down girl

7:16 - uv always been a cunt this is just like u

8:11 - wat r u gonna do when u get nocked up by some prick u dont have money 4 all dem kids

The string of insults and threats lasted most of the night, the only reason I kept looking at them was to make sure that they hadn’t found us somehow, or had any ideas. I would need a head start if they did. I’m not sure if I would be able to shoot my brother, but I know I could shoot my dad. He deserved it. After all he did to me, all he put us through. Even my dead beat mother didn’t deserve him. He was half the reason she’s as bad as she is. Apparently, my mother hadn’t started using drugs until after I was born. My father had escalated when he had his first daughter, and his true colors began to shine through. My mom used in order to live with herself, the guilt, his abuse. She even made sure to get clean each time she learned she was pregnant, but she always relapsed. She was a strong woman - I had to give her that. If nothing else, she was strong. But still a horrible mother. She should have taken us with her when she left.

But now it was my responsibility. I had to do what she couldn’t. I couldn’t help but think about my parents, my horrible family - as I stood in the doorway, watching them sleep. I may not be able to change what happened to me, but I would do anything it took to prevent it from happening to Bailey and Colton. If it comes down to it, I will kill my own father to ensure he never lays another hand on them.

Watching them sleep peacefully, side by side in their own brand new bed with clean sheets and a safe roof over their head - that made it all worth it.

Jessie and Beau came over at nine with beers and I set up a fire in the front yard. I had found this old firepit someone was throwing away on the side of the road the other night and I took it of course. I was excited for some relaxing adult time before my shift tonight. I hated my job, but I made good money there so far.

“What time you work tonight?” Jessie asks as she pops open a bottle of beer and hands it to me with a grin on her face.

“Eleven to three. At least it’ll go by fast.” I respond, taking a gulp. The alcohol burns as it goes down my throat and I let out a sigh, leaning back into the stairs. I hadn’t gotten around to getting chairs for the yard yet - an unnecessary expense I couldn’t afford just yet. Jessie sat beside me, a lemonade in hand instead of beer, given that she was pregnant, and Beau sat on the hood of his truck, rolling a joint. I always enjoyed nights like this - quiet, relaxing, worry free. Jessie had been the best friend I’d ever had, I’m glad we’re still so close.

“That man ever come back?” She asks, referring to a customer from a few nights ago. He had gotten too drunk and handsy, trying to get me to give him my number. He even waited until the bar closed for me and the manager had to call the cops to get him to leave so I could go home. That was the latest reason I hated my job that I’d only had for a few weeks.

“No. Hopefully he never comes back, I don’t wanna have to use what Merle gave me earlier on him.” I mutter, glancing behind me to make sure the kids hadn’t woken up.

“The neighbor?” Beau asks. I nod.

“What did he give you? Are yous like, talking now?” Jessie asks, leaning on her knees and giving me a worried look.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I wanted to look into getting… a gun, for protection. From Dad.” I explain in a quieter tone. “I figured someone like him would know a place, and he actually ended up giving me a handgun.” I continue, watching Jessie’s disapproving look and wide eyes. “I’ll be safe. I really need it. If Dad finds out where we are…” I trail off, taking a large sip of my beer and letting a huff out.

“Why’d he just give you a gun for free?” Beau asks, looking up from where he was rolling the joint on the hood.

“I dunno. At first he said it was gonna cost me, but then when I mentioned it was because of Dad, he let me just have it. Said he knew all about asshole fathers.” I shrugged. “Either way, works for me.”

“Just don’t let him use that against you. Who knows what he might try to pull, he reminds me of Mack.” Jessie rolls her eyes when she mentions my older brother, grimacing. She hates me as much as I do. He had tried to get with her a million times and it made him resentful, yelling and cursing at her. Which then resulted in Beau beating the shit out of him - which was a sight for sore eyes.

“Yeah, he’s a bit better than him though. From what I’ve seen, at least.” I shrug, taking another swig of my beer. “Dad’s been texting me most of the day, he texted me earlier too. The bullshit you’d expect - pretending to care I took the kids, threatening me.” I explain, handing my phone to Jessie to see the string of unanswered texts.

“I hate them,” She grumbles as she scrolls through the texts. “They won’t find you, don’t worry. They’re too stupid to figure it out.” I chuckle at her comment.

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” I giggle. Beau stands up and offers me the blunt, which I accept and take a long hit from. As I am doing so, I hear a man start laughing and sure enough, Merle and Daryl are standing at the bottom of their porch. I exhale the large puff of smoke and hand the blunt back to Beau, leaning on my knees and resisting the urge to cough.

“Damn girl, who knew ya could have a little fun!” Merle exclaims, walking across the lawn toward us. Daryl and I make eye contact for a short moment before he rolls his eyes and leans against the beat up railing, placing his crossbow on the porch stairs, seemingly waiting for his brother. I roll my eyes with a smirk at Merle’s comment. Ever since earlier, I’ve decided to cut him a little slack. If I was interpreting right, we had more in common than I thought - at least, regarding families.

“Yeah, sometimes.” I respond, offering my beer bottle to him, earning a surprised look from Jessie. I was trying to be nice to Merle to repay him for the gun, so he wouldn’t come collecting in another way. It was the least I could do for a free handgun and clip. Merle looks shocked for a short moment but smirks and takes the bottle from my hand, taking a large swig.

“Yous her family?” Merle asks, looking at Jessie. She hesitates for a moment before shaking her head.

“Friends.” She responds, readjusting her feet uncomfortably. I stand up and suddenly I’m aware of just how close Merle was to me. I am almost touching him as he leans against my railing, my bottle in his large hands, a smirk plastered across his face. He looks fairly attractive in the fire light and his seemingly clean-ish clothes. He’s wearing black cargo pants and a white T-shirt under a jacket, and I take notice of the knife holstered on his hip. “Going hunting?” I ask, taking a step away from him toward the fire and tossing another log in.

“Mhm,” He responds, taking another sip of my beer. “Wanna come with, sweetheart? Can show ya the ways.” He suggests flirtatiously.

“I actually know how to,” I smirk, stepping closer to him and grabbing the beer from his hand, taking a large sip while looking into his eyes. The alcohol and hit were starting to get to me - I was a bit of a lightweight nowadays, since I’ve lost weight and had less time to do this kind of stuff. Merle bites his bottom lip and holds the intense eye contact with me, taking the beer back when I hand it to him and I can feel his eyes on me as I retake my seat beside Jessie.

“Yer loss.” He shrugs, pretending to be indifferent.

“C’mon man!” Daryl shouts from their side of the lawn impatiently. I wish that he would come join us too - I wanna get to know him better.

“Ugh I’m comin! Get yer panties outta a bunch!” He shouts over his shoulder. Merle hands the beer back to me after one last gulp and heads off to rejoin Daryl, walking away into the dark woods.

“What was that all about?” Jessie demands when they are out of earsight. I shrug and set the beer down, not wanting to get anymore intoxicated, given that I still have work later.

“I dunno, gotta be nice. I kinda owe him.” I mumble, kicking at dirt. Truth be told, I found those brothers interesting. Mysterious and dangerous, but alluring. Yes, they were trouble, but I always ended up attracting trouble anyway.

“You better be careful.” Jessie warns me, and I nod.

The night went on peacefully and we all enjoyed talking over the fire and relaxing with the kids asleep. I left for work and Jessie stayed at my place while Beau went out with his friends after dropping me off. He was gonna pick me up after work too, since he was gonna be in the same general area.

My shift was going fine until about one, when I recognized a familiar face and my whole night went sour. The creepy man from the other night was back, and he had his eyes on me. He was with another man at a table instead of the bar, but he was very obviously watching me. I informed the manager on duty but it wasn’t the same man from the other night, so he didn’t know the extent of how creepy the man was. He only came up to the bar once, having his buddy order drinks while he watched me. I remained calm and didn’t even glance at him, handing the drinks to his friend and accepting the two dollar tip without a word.

It took about a half an hour to finish cleaning up after everyone was out of the bar and I was dreading heading outside. I had a feeling that the man would be waiting for me again, but the manager didn’t want me wasting hours and had to stay behind to finish up, so I had to go out alone. I hung up my apron at the door and sighed as I locked up behind myself, leaving the manager alone in the building to finish recounting the drawers. I had already stuffed my tip money into my purse and had my keys tucked between my fingers as I looked around cautiously for a sign of anyone. There were still people out, despite being a bit past three in the morning. Beau hadn’t answered my texts in the last half hour and Jessie was asleep, so I had to wait. Great. Across the street, I spotted a nice looking motorcycle across the street, but that was the only vehicle besides far down the road.

I started walking toward the street light by the corner to wait for Beau when I heard a male voice call out. “Hey! Bitch!” I grasped my keys tighter in my hand and turned my head, spotting the man and his buddy down the alleyway. They stood up from leaning on the wall and started heading my way, so I started walking faster, but then they started running.

“Help!” I hollered and started running across the street. The adrenaline kicked in in my body as fear took over and I ran as fast as I could down the opposite side of the street. They were close behind me and I tried to hop over a fence, but they caught up and threw me onto the ground before I could get all the way over. “Help! Please!” I screamed as loud as I could, trying to kick the men away from me. The main guy sat on top of my hip and shoved a hand over my mouth, smirking evilly down at me as his buddy started trying to lift me. I kicked and flailed as hard as I could but I couldn’t get away as they drug me across the ground into a back alley.

“Hey!” I heard a different male voice holler and then there was the sound of glass breaking. The main man let go of his hand over my mouth to look behind him and I took that opportunity to scream as loud as my lungs would let me, before the second guy punched me in the face. I swore I saw stars as my face throbbed, the two still pinning me, my head propped against the second guy’s chest where he held a knife to my throat.

“Get off her. Now.” A deep male voice demands. I can’t see with the main guy on top of me but I am grateful for whoever it is coming to my rescue. The men only chuckle evilly but then something happens and the second guy jumps away from me quickly, making me slam my head down on the concrete. I groan and my vision goes blurry with tears as the stinging in my head intensifies. “Help…” I mutter as I fight to stay conscious, my head throbbing. The cold, rocky concrete is painful against my cheek, but not as bad as the weight of the man or the stinging in my head.

I can finally see around the main guy and spot a man a few yards away, aiming something in our direction. It’s hard to see with my blurred vision and the darkness, but it looks like a weird sideways weapon. “Ay, man. Chill out. We was just having some fun, that’s all.” The second guy insists, holding his hands up a little. I try to wiggle away but the man on top of me grabs onto my throat and holds a knife toward me.

“Think I won’t? Get the hell outta here or I’ll kill her right here, right now.” The man growls. I stare at the sharp tip of the knife in my face, fearing this is where my life will end. What will happen to Bailey and Colton without me?

The next moment is a huge blur. One second, there is a knife in my face, and the next, the man falls off of me, screaming in pain on the ground beside me. I jump up off the ground as fast as I can and stumble away from them, running blindly in the direction of where I had seen the shadowy figure of the other man. I stumble and trip in the combination of darkness and the pain throughout my body, reaching out to the brick wall to catch myself from falling but someone else catches me and I start flailing and trying to get away, until I look up.

It’s Merle. He hoists me up from where I was half fallen on the ground onto my feet and puts a hand around my waist to keep me up against him. His face is serious and it’s the first time he hasn’t cracked any jokes to me. I’ve never been more relieved to see someone in my life. I reach up and hold onto his neck, trying to keep my balance. The man continues screaming and cursing and I look back, spotting Daryl holding up a crossbow. “Oh shit! Fuck!” The second man screams, running away and leaving his friend behind with an arrow in his ass. Daryl walks over to him and takes his knife, pressing a foot on the man’s back and yanking the arrow out from his asscheek. I turn and hide my face in Merle’s shirt, disgusted and terrified. The screaming continues and then I hear a second scream and a trash can get knocked over. When I look back again, the other man is laying on the ground toward the back of the alley, an arrow in his leg.

Daryl stalks over to him and rips the arrow from his leg as well, kicking the man in the face before heading back toward the first man. “Ya ever, ever - come back here again… I’ll kill ya.” Daryl growls at the main guy who had been stalking me. Daryl rejoins us and puts a hand on my back hesitantly, looking down at me. I’d never been this close to either of the brothers and yet, somehow, I felt safer now.

“T-thank you.” I mumble into Merle’s chest, holding onto him tight, too afraid to let go. Tears stained into his shirt but I couldn’t bring myself to care - I was shaking and biting back crying.

“C’mon,” Merle mumbles, grasping onto my tight and trying to turn me around. I held onto him tight and let them lead me away, not paying attention. I saw Daryl grab my purse and keys in the corner of my eye and noticed Merle was leading me to a motorcycle. “You take her back, little brother. I’ll meet ya there after I finish up here.” Merle lets go of me and I feel like I’m going to fall over from the pounding in my head, but Daryl grabs onto me before I can fall completely over.

“Damn,” Daryl mutters, grabbing me tight and I notice that we are face to face. He’s got me by my waist and my hands grasp onto his shirt collar. “Sorry…” I mumble, blinking away fresh tears. He doesn’t respond but he helps me onto the back of the motorcycle. “Hold onto this.” He takes my hand and places it on these handlebar things, and I do. I do my best to stay up straight while he attaches my purse and his crossbow onto the back of the motorcycle and then sits in front of me. I whip my head toward the alley when I hear more screaming, but Daryl starts the engine and revs the bike. “Hold onto me. Tight.” Daryl hollers over his shoulder, and I do so without hesitation. I wrap my arms tightly around his waist and lean my head against his shoulder, terrified to fall off. I’ve never been on a motorcycle before - if I had been in a normal state of mind, I would have objected. But at this point, I wanted to get home as fast as possible.

The motorcycle is fast and the wind blows past us. I keep my eyes closed and focus on holding onto Daryl, feeling lightheaded and scared of falling off. It’s a short ride and he has to help me off of the bike. Holding onto his rough hand made me feel anxious and insecure but I had to in order to keep upright. He led me inside his house, and I did not object, as I did not want the kids to see me or for me to wake them up. He leads me over to a beaten up couch and I hesitantly sit down, looking around cautiously. I didn’t know if anyone else was here, but it seemed we were alone. I held onto my own arms tightly and tried to focus on my breathing. “I should uh, check ya out.” Daryl mumbles, crouching down in front of me. He waits for me to respond in some way, so I nod and uncross my arms. He runs a hand up my bare leg and I force myself not to flinch. I’m not afraid of Daryl, but tonight’s events have me shaken up. “Stand up,” He says, offering me his hand to help me get up. He lifts up my shirt a little and I flinch when he touches my back. “Yer pretty scratched up.” He comments, removing his hand from my back. “Should put somethin on that, so it don’t get infected.” He stands up when I sit back down and walks away, presumably to grab something. I hold onto my head and wince in pain where there is a large bump already forming.

Daryl returns with a few items in hand. He gives me a package of peas and shrugs, not meeting my eye. “Don’t have ice packs.” He mumbles, kneeling in front of me. “Turn around.” He tells me, and I move so that he can get to my back, placing the ice on my head. He starts applying something cold to my back and I sit as still as I can, wincing at the pain from where I was drug across the concrete. “Yer shirt’s all torn.” He notes when he pulls it back down. “Lemme see yer head.” I remove the ice and he gently runs his fingers through my hair, eventually finding the lump and I jump in pain, tearing up. “Sorry,” He mutters. “How do you feel? Ya might have a concussion.” He says, and I groan.

“I can’t afford to have a concussion.” I mumble and lean back into the sofa, holding the ice against my head once more. Daryl places a gentle hand on my cheek, below my eye, where I was punched. I look into his eyes as he gently rubs his rough thumb over what is surely a black eye. “M’sorry this happened to ya.” He mutters, looking away.

“Thank you for saving me.” I respond quietly.

“Wish I’d been there sooner.” He grumbles, standing up and removing his vest, tossing it onto the seat. He is wearing a black button down shirt and black jeans, his hair is matted against his forehead - but he looks very attractive. I look down at my bare knees that are now scratched up and feel my eyes burning again.

“What were you doing there, anyway?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Merle wanted a drink. Said ya worked there, wanted to bother ya I’m sure.” I let out a small chuckle and he continues. “We were leavin to head back, but we heard ya yellin.” I nod and look down again, trying not to think about it. I should be used to this sort of thing by now, given what I went through as a child.

Before either of us can say anything more, the door opens and Merle steps in, wiping his hands off on a rag. I notice the faint red marks on his knuckles and wonder what he had been doing, but try not to think of that either. Whatever he did, I didn’t care. Those men deserved it.

“She good?” Merle asks his brother, looking over at me huddled on their sofa. Daryl nods and explains my injuries briefly to Merle, who huffs. “Lucky we were there, sugar.” He comments. I don’t respond, hugging myself and shivering a little. Daryl notices but Merle heads to the bathroom, probably to clean up. Daryl walks away but returns shortly with a shirt and sweatpants. “Here. Ya can change in my room.” He mutters, handing the clothes to me. I am shocked but I accept and stand up slowly, following him back to his room. He shuts the door behind himself and I stand there for a moment, surprised to be in his room. He’s a lot sweeter than he likes to come off, it seems. It’s a very standard room. Pretty messy, no decorations, basic sheets on the bed, old paint. He clearly doesn’t care much for the room, it seems like he probably only uses it to sleep. It’s not “homey.” I remove my now ruined shirt and skirt and throw the large T-shirt on and tie the sweatpants on tight so they will fit me. The shirt is baggy and I notice it smells like Daryl. I hadn’t known what he smelled like before today but now I recognize it. It kinda smells like the outdoors, like firewood or something. It’s a nice scent, though, and I find it comforting.

I open the door with my old clothes in hand and spot Daryl waiting down the hall, leant up against the wall. Merle comes out of the bathroom at the same time and we make awkward eye contact. “Look like a Darylina.” He comments with a chuckle, walking past me toward the kitchen. Daryl looks at me for a long moment, until I meet his eye, and then he drops his gaze to the floor. I slowly approach him and give him a forced, appreciative smile. “Thank you.” I tell him gratefully. He has been so kind to me tonight. Before today, I hadn’t barely spoken to him before and he was always standoffish and seemed to avoid talking to me. It was a weird change, but welcomed. If only the circumstances it occurred under were different…

“Want me to throw em away?” He asks, referring to my clothes in hand. I shrug and hand them to him. He tosses them into a trash can and Merle walks over to the chair by the TV, popping open and beer and kicking his feet up. He seemed so nonchalant about the whole situation, it was weird. “Oh shit,” I mutter, realizing Beau is probably worried, waiting for me. “Do you have my phone?” I ask Daryl.

“That’s what yer worried bout?” Merle speaks up.

“No, I had been waiting for my ride. He’s probably worried.” I explain, looking to Daryl, hoping he had grabbed it. Silently, he pulls my phone from his pocket and hands it to me. “Thank you.” I unlock it and find a million missed calls from both Beau and Jessie. He must have woken her up when I never showed up. “Shit.” I grumble. I hated worrying them, after all they do for me.

“Yer boyfriend?” Merle asks, gulping down some of his beer.

“No, my friend’s boyfriend.” I respond as I text both of them in a group message that I was okay and that I would explain.

“Why would yer friend’s man be pickin ya up at three in the mornin?” Merle asks with a wink.

“Ew, no. I’m not like that. He’s a good friend, she’s watching the kids for me at my house right now. I gotta go let them know I’m okay…” I trail off, then remember I’m in Daryl’s clothes. “Uh, I can go change and bring these back-” I start, but he shakes his head.

“Keep em.” He insists, and I feel bad, but don’t fight back. “Ya might have a concussion, so ya should have someone check up on ya when ya sleep tonight, and get it checked.” He explains.

“Doctor Daryl.” Merle jokes sarcastically, and his brother shoots him an evil eye.

“Thank you guys for helping me. I don’t know how I can repay you…” I trail off, refusing to think about the course of the night again.

“Don’t worry bout it, darlin.” Merle smirks.

“Couldn’t just leave ya there.” Daryl mutters awkwardly, shuffling his feet.

“Well, still. Thank you.” I repeat before heading toward the door. Daryl follows behind me, handing me my purse and keys, and I wave before walking out and heading back to my house slowly, careful not to trip. I look back and notice he is watching me and I feel my cheeks heat up, fumbling to get my key out and open my door. I notice Beau’s truck is here and when I open the door, the two of them are sitting on the sofa, waiting for me.

Jessie and Beau were furious when I told them what happened and I ended up crying on her shoulder, letting the emotions from the night settle in. Beau threatened to go back out looking for them but I told him what I suspected Merle did and he didn’t. Jessie helped me get cleaned up and settled into bed. She slept next to me in my bed that night and woke me up every two hours, in case I had a concussion. Beau slept on the couch and I had never felt more appreciative for anyone more than I did for them and Daryl in that very moment...

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