#but i am v much an outsider so lmk if i missed something

[gammija]

the real reason tmagp is on break 'til april 11th is so sam can observe ramadan without being chased by a murderous clown blob

[sunfyresrider]

ミ♥︎OUR LAST SUMMER | NETEYAM SULI

❥Summary: You were never allowed to leave the lab, especially to venture off into the forest. However, one day you get a extreme urge to go to the river and that’s where you met him. The man who would surely be your downfall. ❥Word Count: 8k ❥Tags: obsessive tendencies, love struck Neteyam, mild manipulation, jealous!neteyam, interspecies relationship, wingman!Lo’ak, smut, fingering, oral, p n v, choking (slightly), mild angst. Am I missing anything? Lmk! ❥Author’s Note: This can be seen as a part one to a future fic of mine ‘Mated for Life’. S/O to me for finally remembering to add a word count LMAO. This is inspired by an older fic of mine so I’m kinda copyrighting myself😎

Neteyam knew from a young age everything would fall on his shoulders, that all the responsibilities of an adult would be his to bear. It made him pretty fucking miserable to be honest, but he would never let it show. It made him a better person in many ways, a better son, a better warrior, and a great brother. It did not make him happy nor did it make him forget the loneliness he felt.

Lo’ak always claimed he was misunderstood but Neteyam dare say he had it worse. No one viewed him as other than perfect, no one attempted to see what’s under the surface, and no one was there to love him in the ways he thought he deserved. Today was one of the days that proved he wouldn’t be anything other than the perfect soldier. Another day he had to take the blame for something he did not do.

His brother had snuck onto the battlefield and nearly killed them both. The second their ikrans landed his father had a speech to give to them both, even while his eldest son was bleeding. He took the blame as he always did, the yelling, the insults, and the beratement to protect his younger brother. How much more could he take though? After his wounds had been healed he found himself in the corner of the forest, knees pressed tightly to his chest.

Neteyam prided himself on not being weak but today he let the tears flows. He let the river attempt to wash away the burden that he had no choice but to carry. Neteyam wanted someone, just anyone, to understand him. That is what he prayed for from Ewya, even though the great mother did not involve herself in petty things such as this, he hoped she would this one time.

You had grown up on Pandora, your mother being one of the great scientists who worked with Grace Augustine and Jake Sully. She didn’t allow you to venture outside often like spider, you were too small, too precious to her to risk being harmed in the wilderness. In your opinion it was a load of bullshit and you deserved to play with the Na’vi kids just like him! Except now you were older, inexperienced, out of shape, and would probably die by a viper wolf attack.

Unfortunately for her you were born with rebellion in your heart and a strong sense of will. Dusk had fallen on the moon and the light from the windows inside the lab were beginning to fill the room's orange. It was one of the rare moments you were able to be completely alone. It was a strict rule to return to your room after biology lessons with Norm but you had plenty of time to stroll. Right now, your mother would still be aiding the warriors returning from the recent battle. It was prime time to make an escape and explore.

You first met Neteyam in a very compromising position, curled up by the stream and sleeping. There was a subtle stain on his blue skin from tears that were shed earlier. He looked pathetic, not in a bad way, in an abused puppy way that made your heart melt. How could you leave him out here all alone? Granted, he was twice your size and carried many weapons but that thought did not ease the ache in your heart. No one should ever be left alone to cry. You crawled next to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder to shake him awake. “Neteyam?” You whispered into his ears.

His eyebrows began to furrow slightly, ears twitching in the direction of your voice. “Neteyam, wake up.” He jumped up and snatched your wrist, startling you. “Brother?!” His eyes scanned the surroundings quickly and you before settling with a confused expression plastered on his face. “S-sorry Lo’ak isn’t here,” you mumbled out. You knew the former vastly better since he visited the lab so often, all you knew of the eldest was stories.

Neteyam’s quickened breathing settled, his eyes scanning over your form. Which human were you? You were too pretty to be another scientist, too young to have lived here during the war. It took him awhile of staring at you for his brain to finally put it together, “star girl.” His hands released you slowly as his mouth hung slightly agape, why in Ewya’s name would Lo’ak hide you from him? He had seen you in passing once or twice but he didn’t realize you looked like this.

Neteyam never considered an alien could be beautiful but you proved him very wrong. You had the perfect lips, your eyes glistened with his reflection inside your pupils. Your hair fell perfectly, highlighting your pretty face. And from what he could see from your strange clothes you had a nice body too. “Lo’ak told me many things about you, all good so far.” He quickly cleared his throat, pulling his hands away to wipe the tears from his eyes. This was embarrassing, but he was going to push through it.

Two tiny, four fingered, hands cupped his cheeks. Your skin was warm, soft and distracting him from his original thought. “Are you alright? Was someone being cruel to you?” You regretted the last sentence as it stumbled out, he was just in a battle you idiot! Oh Ewya, help him because you sounded like the angels his dad spoke about. Neteyam was too dumbfounded to say anything coherent, maybe too starstruck by your presence.

You weren’t necessarily wrong, his father did hurt him deeply. His mother hurt him by not standing up for him either. The most perplexing part was you cared to ask, your tiny self risked being in these dangerous lands just to see if he was alright. Neteyam forced himself to nod slowly, not entirely sure how to react to such comfort.

Perhaps this wasn’t the best thing to do but your mother always comforted you in this way. You had even done this to Kiri a few times when she came to the lab to cry about her own problems. Gently, you swiped the tear tracks from his face, pressing two gentle kisses where they laid. “Don’t cry, you’re an amazing warrior, a good son, an even better brother. You finished your Rite of Passage before anyone else your age. You have so much more to offer than just those things and they’re just too blind to see it. And so many people love you like-”

“My child,” the sounds of your mother's cries echoed in your ears. Shit, she knew you had escaped. You let go of him quickly, preparing to run into her arms and feign innocence. Before you left though, you jumped onto him, arms embracing his frame the best they could. “You're perfect, okay? I’m always here to talk if you need it." You jumped to your feet, brushing off the dirt you had collected whilst exploring. "I gotta go... feel better!"

Neteyam sat up and watched you scurry away, his eyes were wide and time had stilled around him. Where the fuck have you been his entire life? His heart felt full in a way it hadn’t before, Neteyam’s stomach twisting around itself. The thoughts of your little hands, your little frame, your sweet voice and soft lips swirling in his head. You were so… perfect, so inviting… You had to be his.

He had never truly thought about having someone all for himself, especially an alien. But even the perfect son needed to indulge his own desires at times, even the hardened warrior needed to be held in times of sorrow. At this moment all he could think about was stealing you away, keeping you safe in his home, protecting you from the dangers of this world forever. He needed more, desperately and as soon as possible.

Neteyam pulled himself up, with a new found confidence he ran home. It was time he talked to his parents about finding a potential mate.

The talk went about as well as Lo’ak claiming his ikran. He mentioned he had found someone, and he was prepared to finally choose a mate. His parents rejoiced, the proud look they reserved for him finally returning. Until he mentioned that it was you, and the light drained from their eyes, the colors fading from their faces.

Neteyam’s idea was shot down faster than he could manage to speak it. You had an avatar body in that damn lab and he knew it! You could easily become one of the people like his father and be his mate. Why was his mother so against it? His father at the very least gave it some thought before succumbing to his mother’s rants.

It wasn’t her fault she was traumatized, but it was hypocritical considering his father was an alien when she met him. Fine, Neteyam was used to a challenge and he would claim you before they had another chance to say no. Hopefully this time around his love for you would override his fear of disappointing his parents.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The next time he came across you was far after eclipse, everyone in his home was fast asleep while he made his move. It was incredibly hard to sneak out of the camp, even harder to sneak into the human camp. Your stupid cameras and metal monstrosities make it nearly impossible to creep through, let alone into you. Neteyam vaguely remembered where Lo’ak claimed you slept, in moments like these he was grateful his brother had his back.

The more he tiptoed around the camp the angrier he became, were you even real or was that a fever dream? He stumbled onto a group of tree metal homes stacked against each other. Carefully, he peeked his head into each one searching you out. To his disappointment the first two were occupied by a snoring Norm and a drooling Max. It took him one more attempt before he finally saw your sleeping figure.

You were so adorable, all bundled up in the things called sheets and holding a pillow tightly to your chest. It made his soul melt at the sight, Neteyam wasted no time welcoming himself inside, pushing the first door open and closing it tightly behind him. If he let any air in from the outside you may die before he got the chance to touch you again. Thankfully, the next door was easier and much quieter than the first.

Neteyam had to crouch as he approached you, ignoring how terrifying he probably looked. He outstretched one of his long fingers to brush a strand of your hair out of your face, admiring the peaceful view in front of him. If Ewya allowed it he could stay and watch you sleep all night but your air was already taking an effect on his lungs.

“Yawne… wake up,” he gently placed a hand on your shoulder, urging you awake. You were an incredibly light sleeper, your eyes shot open and you jumped back as if you were about to scream. Neteyam quickly shoved a hand over your lips, bracing the back of your head with the other before it crashed against the wall. “Shhh, shh yawne, it’s Neteyam.”

You crooked your head to the side, watching him closely. Obviously pondering why he invaded your space at such a late hour. “Neteyam,” you murmured into his hand, confirming if this was a dream or reality. A wide grin blessed his features, “good morning, baby girl.” He heard that nickname from his father, and by the blush on your cheeks it worked quite well. “What are you doing here?”

You rubbed your eyes, gazing out the window, “it’s after eclipse...” you drawled into a yawn. His entire body language shifted, excitement coursing through his veins. “I’m always too busy during the day to visit so I thought now would be the perfect time.” You sat up on your bed, he reached up and brushed the hair out of your face again. His eyes were completely memorizing, and he touched you with the gentleness only your mother did. “O-okay.”

Neteyam smiled at you with such kindness, even with his size you didn’t feel threatened in slightest. “I thought since you never get to go out I would take you tonight. Of course, you would be under my protection the entire time.”

Your face lit up, you could finally leave and see what’s outside these dull walls. But at the back of your head the sound of your mother's voice telling you what not to do rang strong. The fear of disappointing her was even stronger and the fear of potential punishment. “I- I can’t.”

“No one will find out, I promise.” His amber eyes peered up at you with the same heart wrenching expression as the other day. “You wouldn’t want to make me sad, would you? I- I just thought you would want to spend time with me.” It was manipulative, he knew but it worked flawlessly with you. Neteyam would make up for this one transgression later. “Fine, just wait for me outside please. " you said in a nervous whisper.

Neteyam didn’t take his eyes off you as you slid into your “outside” clothing, at some point he would need to get you actual ones instead of the odd human fabrics that cover too much. You hastily slipped your mask on, taking in a deep breath as you did. He hated that thing, hopefully soon he could get rid of it. A very subtle, almost unnoticeable feeling of butterflies filled your stomach as you exited the lab.

“You ready, baby?” The word sounded foreign on his tongue but music to your ears. You nodded in excitement, letting Neteyam grasp your hand and pull you along. He was gentle with you no matter how much excitement was coursing through his veins. You moved in unison through the thick leaves, granted he whisked you off your feet anytime you seemed to falter. The farther away from the encampment you got, the happier you became.

The forest was naturally lit with bioluminescent flowers, vines, and grasses of all kinds. The noise of animals coming out to play filled your ears and for once it did not frighten you. Neteyam was basking in your joy, your voice carried only the excitement of someone innocent to this world. And when you glanced at him? It felt like Ewya herself had sent you to make his heart ache.

To avoid any possible maimings or accidental injuries he kept you very close to him. If Neteyam’s arm was not around you then his hand was on yours. The warmth you radiated felt like his only life source. To your surprise, he was naturally funny and laid back. You had only assumed he was cold, stern and serious, this must be a side of him he only showed a few.

You spoke with him more than anyone, babbling about everything you saw, heard or felt. It may seem obnoxious to others but to him it was like a melody being played by a flute. Each time you squeezed his fingers he felt the blood rush to his head, pounding at his skull in the most beautiful way. You had completely and irrevocably captured his heart.

As the evening progressed the original point of this journey was almost lost to the daze you put him in. Instead of immediately taking you to the sacred place he opted for the stream where you originally found him, you could call it a second, better, impression. It was memorizing in the eyes of a girl who never got to leave her cave of comfort. The fish glowing beneath a gentle stream, a waterfall glistening under the light of several moons.

But this place would be the start of your inevitable downfall. It started off as a dare that turned into swimming half nude with a man twice your size. You let the water flow past you, cradling your body in its warmth. Neteyam was a better swimmer than you, granted you had never gotten the chance before. You chased him in circles below the surface, quickly becoming distracted by the fish that swam by.

The orange was your favorite, reminding you of the sunset. His favorite was the yellow, said it reminded him of you because yellow was the color of happiness and you made him happy… It was a very sappy way of flirting but it worked. Neteyam spent most of his time indulging you on what you wanted or asked the entire night and he did not mind for one second.

You asked him personal questions no one else dared to, further carving your way into his soul. If he thought he knew what love was before he was terribly wrong. Whatever you were doing to him was much worse in all the right ways. It was about the time he came to the realization, staring into your eyes and seeing your future together, you started to nod off. Your eyes become droopy, yawns escaping your throat every other sentence.

Neteyam would stay like this forever if he could, drowning in your existence. Your health was more important to him though and you desperately needed sleep to survive. You tried to fight him off when he said it was time to go, whining to stay here forever. It was cute, and he almost didn’t make you leave, until another adorable yawn left you.

He whisked you off your feet without protest, wrapping your legs around him so he could carry you home. You felt embarrassed at first, realizing you probably looked like a baby being carried by their mother. But then you began to feel his breath on your neck sending goosebump down your spine, long fingers wrapping around you to keep you in place. The low, deep, whisper of his voice telling you sweet nothings echoing in the walls of your mind.

A new sensation washed over you as Neteyam’s lips brushed against your ears ever so slightly. A sweet ache between your legs that progressively got worse the longer he held you. You attempted to pull away, embarrassed he could feel the heat, but he easily overpowered you. Neteyam was determined to keep you in place, as close to him as humanly possible.

He paused his stride, gazing at you for a moment and then back to the forest ahead. You avoided his eyes, but you could feel the smirk creep onto his face. He didn’t say anything on the way home, deep in thought it seemed. However, you could hear his breath becoming ever so slightly heavier.

Neteyam should be a good little soldier and take you home and feign ignorance. He noticed every sound, every look, every smell, every movement coming from you. The warm feeling across his waist that was driving him to the brink of insanity. His own arousal was bound to be noticed the second he put you down… How far could he go with you before he was stopped? You wanted him and why should he not give you what you wanted?

Sneaking back inside the second time was easier than the first, and this time he intended to stay a little longer than necessary. You were drowsy, too tired to change yourself into dry clothing. You probably told yourself he was used to seeing people in less clothes and that it was nothing to Neteyam. Oh how wrong you were. He managed to keep quiet though, attempting to avoid the thing between his legs.

“Time for bed, yawne.” You threw yourself onto the bed, melting into the mattress. Sleep evaded you, the wetness between your legs making it unbearable to get comfortable. To your surprise, he climbed on top, hovering mere inches from your face. “You okay, baby girl?” His ears twitched, Neteyam’s tail betraying his thoughts. There it was again, the foreign nickname that rolled off his tongue like honey.

You crossed your legs together tightly, “I-I’m okay.” He cocked his head to the side, bringing a finger up to brush your face. “I can help you if there’s something wrong,” he purred. You gulped, opening your legs ever so slightly to make a little more room, but that only made the ache worse. His knee found its place between your thighs, applying pressure to the one place you were trying to avoid.

You turned away and evaded his gaze. You felt like a complete idiot, a grown woman acting like a horny teenager, it was disgusting! However, when you looked back at him he was still looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask for his help. His knee moved forward once more, you bit your lip to avoid the sound attempting to escape. “I can show you what helps me, yawne.”

He whispered lowly, you didn’t have time to think, or reply before his lips were connecting to yours. You attempted to push him back, tell him no, this was wrong, and you could get in so much trouble. But the feeling of his legs between yours was easing whatever plagued you. A sound of pleasure escaped you before you could stop it, and that seemed to embolden him.

His lips pressed harder against yours, the sweetness of his mouth made your mind hazy. Neteyam’s tongue found itself entangled with yours, and you found yourself getting lost in the moment. The feeling of need was quickly becoming too much so you moved your hips against him, desperately trying to release the pressure.

Neteyam chuckled into your mouth, his fangs glistening in the light. “All you had to say was your problem was down there,” he purred. “I can fix that for you,” Neteyam’s voice turned into an exhilarating whisper, sending chills down your spine. You shivered at the feeling of his fingers gently slipping inside your waistband, hovering over the spot you really wanted him.

You grabbed his hand, your nerves getting the best of you. “W-what if someone finds out.” Neteyam moved forward, cupping your pussy . It was so wet and desperate for him, how could he stop? “I won’t tell if you don’t.” You closed your eyes, nodding your head. Neteyam kissed you once more, this time more rough than before. Internally, he hoped everyone would find out.

He slipped his finger inside of you, his eyes growing wide at how tight you were. He could feel the heat emanating from your core, and you were practically throbbing. Neteyam’s fingers were large enough to easily reach your sweet spot, stretching you out as he added another. You clenched around him, a high pitched sound leaving your lips.

He groaned at the sight of you, you were far too good to be true. Neteyam leaned down, gently nipping at your neck and sucking on your pulse point. His fangs occasionally gliding across your sensitive skin. Neteyam continued to pleasure you, fingers moving at a steady rhythm, a pace he knew he could keep up for hours.

You bit your lip to hold back your whines, each breathy exhale turning into a high pitched moan. The sound was like music to Neteyam, he couldn't get enough of you. His tongue snaked out of his mouth, tasting your skin as he left marks. He wanted everyone to know you belonged to him, in one way or another.

His thumb began to circle your clit, thankfully human anatomy was similar to his own. His tail wrapped around one of your legs, pulling it to the side, allowing him more access. You gripped onto him, burying your face in his chest to hide the embarrassment of the sound leaving your lips.

Neteyam kissed your forehead, nuzzling you softly as he quickened his pace. You clenched tightly around his fingers, bucking your hips against his hand, riding it out as much as possible. Neteyam had you pinned under him, mercilessly trying to pull out your orgasm. He was almost certain he would cum in his loincloth.

"You're doing so well for me, baby girl." He purred into your ear, his tongue darting across it as his hand worked you. His fingers consistently applying pressure at the spongy spot inside of you. His thumb continued to move across your clit, working it to match the pace. You gripped tightly to his broad shoulders, rolling your hips against his hand as you felt your body begin to give way. "Oh, I-I-I..."

“Hmm? Baby girl I can’t hear you.” His breath was hot on your neck. “S-sgood, Teyam,” your new nickname for him made him groan. His fingers continued to move, making your words come out more high pitched and incoherent than before. He nipped at your neck, biting it and sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

He didn't want to stop, he didn't want this moment to end. The feeling of your warm cunt tightening around him as your body tensed. Your nails digging into his shoulders, you back arching and hips bucking. His hand moved at a steady pace as your body began to unravel, letting yourself go. The euphoric feeling washing over you like a tidal wave.

Neteyam took his time as he eased you through it, gently bringing you down as he whispered sweet nothings. He peppered kisses across your face, murmuring how good you were to him as you relaxed. "Good girl," he whispered. He carefully removed his fingers, and your body mourned the loss of him. “You did so good for me, yawne.”

Your body was limp underneath him, your weighted breaths slowing. “I’m so tired,” you murmured. Shh, go to sleep, yawne. I’ll clean you up.” And he did exactly what he said, unsurprisingly. He took the time out of his night to carefully clean up the mess he made on your body and clothes. It was pathetic to admit but at some point, he came in his loincloth, and it was leaking out onto your sheets.

Neteyam watched you sleep peacefully until the light began to shine into the camp. He rushed back home and thankfully, no one noticed his disappearance. This became a routine between the two of you, and Lo’ak became his best wingman. He pretended to not know anything, made excuses, and visited you pretending like he wasn’t just going so Neteyam had an excuse to follow. For once he was very grateful his little bro was the way he was.

Things were looking up for you as well, Now you got to leave the human lab more often and you got to watch him train with the other boys. A few people noticed the way you watched him and how he watched you, the way he moved if you moved. It was kept quiet, as far as anyone knew you had no relationship. Neteyam was always teaching and showing you exciting new things, making you laugh constantly, showering you with affection you received from no one else. He worshiped you in a way you never thought possible.

Neteyam was completely beside himself, and it was going to kill him eventually. You told him you loved him, were proud of him and he was so much more than just the perfect son. You liked him for the reasons no one else did, seeing him for how he truly was and wanted to be. It was no wonder he was infatuated by your existence.

Neteyam, thankfully, found enough self-control to not fuck you. To do enough to keep you attached to him but not enough to ruin you completely. He was pretty positive he wouldn’t even be able to fit inside you anyway. It didn’t change the fact he thought about it every single day. It was hard to explain the things he was feeling but he knew he was stuck to you. Without you he wouldn’t be able to breathe, eat, or sleep like he used to. Neteyam’s existence would become completely meaningless without your presence.

But for now, it was new and perfect. Shiny like a freshly carved toy bound to break.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

All good things come to an end, you learned that after Quartich had returned and Neteyam was being stolen away to a reef clan too far from you. The moon stopped its rotation, all of the life you had being stolen away after he uttered the words goodbye. It was an indescribable pain, unrelenting and all consuming. It took weeks for you to be able to leave your bed, for the nightmares to cease, but the thoughts of him haunted you at every waking moment.

The only place you could find him was at the river, in memories. A part of you wished to go back, to have never left the lab and stayed oblivious to his existence. In your heart you knew he was bound to carve his place into it one way or another. Neteyam used to say how he prayed to the great mother for you and Ewya always finds a way. Day and night blurred together, you stopped counting the hours and let them fly past you. In your darkest moments you repeated a chant to yourself, a prayer almost, One day, Neteyam will come back for you.

He cried, a pathetic display, in front of his parents to bring you with. Neytiri was disgusted, but not enough to hate you as much as spider. He took that as a small win in a losing battle. Jake never faltered on his stance, only family could come unless you wished to put yourself in danger. All he received for his pleas was sympathy from his siblings and a harsh scolding from his parents. It felt as thought his heart had been torn from his chest, the air sucked out of his lungs. You would be here alone, without him, doing all the things you should be doing with him. Neteyam would be stuck in the middle of the ocean with strangers on a droll island.

He did not adapt to the way of water like Lo’ak did. His brother had finally found an environment to thrive in but he was completely lost without you. It was becoming harder to maintain the perfection his father strived for. Even whilst in mourning he had to care of everyone, protect them, comfort them and receive none of it in return. It was a hard life to live but what other choice did he have?

Neteyam only ever felt happy again when he drifted off in his sleep. He was always with you in his dreams, feeling, touching, hearing and smelling you again. For a few hours each night he was back in your room making stupid jokes and listening to rave about your newest discovery. It was always sunny in his dreams, even when it was nightfall. Each time Neteyam closed his eyes it was as if he was in the promised land… but everyone has to wake up eventually.

To ease the eternal ache, he started pleasuring himself more often. It would be a sad sight if anyone ever caught the once mighty warrior stopping to such levels but desperate times called for desperate measures. Neteyam fully intended on stealing you away one day, human or avatar body he didn’t care anymore. If anyone was against you he would kill them… except his own blood, of course.

When he connected to Ewya he saw you, crouched down by your mother in a body he didn’t recognize. Oh, your avatar, your mother is finally allowing you to use it. You were still ethereal in the new body, still tiny, but you looked much more like him. You felt so close to him, your warmth radiating through the connection. He was at peace again, for a limited time only. Neteyam was dragged away the second he felt a shift in the water… Kiri

“We’re leaving… now!” You scrambled to grab the med supplies before you leaped onto the helicopter. For all that it was worth, you hoped Kiri was okay. Still, a very selfish, disgusting, part of you was glad you now had an excuse to visit Neteyam. Norm wouldn’t allow you to go in Avatar form, too early to tell if it would last the long journey ahead. You nervously picked at your fingernails the entire way there, she would okay you knew it.

Neteyam could only watch as your little form rushed past everyone to get to his sister. He never left her side or yours for that matter, choosing to stay outside and watch you work. He couldn’t put into words how grateful he was for you, for the effort you were devoting to his family, to saving his sister. He felt a sliver of happiness just watching you again, seeing that you were alive and well.

You hadn’t given him the time of day though, too busy checking Kiri’s pulse and giving her an IV. If you were being honest with yourself this didn’t appear to be a normal human illness. Almost all people can wake up from seizures naturally, almost, as she wasn’t waking up at all. You didn’t know as much about Ewya as everyone else but if this happened whilst she was connected to the tree… then it was probably due to that.

Of course, you hadn’t voiced this out loud in fear of insulting Norm and his hard work. Also, Neytiri breathing down your neck had you too scared to move, a good mother, but a very scary woman. Eventually, you were all kicked out and you nearly fell on your face rushing onto the woven walkways. They were much more bouncy than you expected but a rather large Metkayina boy caught you before you dived head first into the ocean.

“You should be more careful, alien.” You gazed up at him with wide eyes, he was even bigger than Teyam! The last word was in Na’vi but you knew very well what it meant. Luckily, it wasn’t filled with disdain like it usually was, rather disappointment paired with curiosity. A strange thing you did notice was his hand remained on your shoulder, was this normal? “Thank you…” His head raised, eyes scanning you cautiously, “It’s Aonung.”

The crowd around the marui had finally begun to disappear and Neteyam was able to release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He stood up from his crouching position, thanking ewya for saving his sister and welcoming her back to the land of the living. It was times like this he was grateful his dad pushed him so hard, if he was too weak, too careless, she could very well be dead.

Neteyam slowly stalked out of the marui, lost in his own thoughts. He knew you would love the ocean, the water, the creatures, and all of the plants you fawn over. His dream was to be able to show you it eventually, under more positive circumstances. For now, he would accept showing you what he could whilst you remained here. A childlike smile graced his features as he looked around, head turning in all directions to spot you.

“I’m going to kill him,” his eyes twitched and Neteyam’s hands unconsciously balled up into fists, granted they were not the same as those with four fingers. Aonung was touching you, talking to you as if you weren’t an alien. After all the bullshit he’d done to his siblings he had the nerve to touch you? He felt the bile in his gut rise to his throat as you smiled at something he said. “It’s a waste of time,” Lo’ak appeared beside him and if he was in his right mind Neteyam would have demanded to know where he has been.

Except he wasn’t in his right mind. “Fish lips,” his younger brother mumbled under his breath before turning to go into the marui where Kiri rested. Jealousy, rage, hate, hurt, Neteyam couldn’t put a name to everything that was boiling inside, but it was too much. You hadn’t even fucking glanced in his direction the entire night. Before he knew it his feet had carried him right behind you, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath.

“Teyam,” you exclaimed, more excited than you have been in months. Your smile fell when you noticed the way his eyes were staring daggers into the water boy, enemies perhaps? “Back off,” he gritted through his teeth as he poked at Aonung’s chest. Obviously, this wasn’t a fight the other was interested in. He glanced at you with a raised brow, if he had a brow, and back at your Teyam.

“Okayyy then,” he lifted his hands in mock surrender. “It was nice meeting you, human.” Aonung spoke to Neteyam more than you, his smirk directed only at him. You swore you heard him growl lowly, maybe the heat was getting to your head. He didn’t move as he watched the fish boy walk away, his tail swaying violently behind him. “Neteyam?” You turned to him, staring at his face after what felt like centuries.

“Teyam-” you were cut off as his hand wrapped around your wrist, literally dragging you away from the camp. You protested at first, slamming your fist into his arm, offended by how he was behaving. Did the reef people make him cruel? “Let. Me. Go!” you shouted at him, but your cry fell on deaf ears. The grip he had on you wasn’t bruising but his strength far outmatched yours and this was completely unfair. You whipped your head around to watch where he was taking you, the sandy beach quickly turning into heavy shrubbery.

It was beautiful at the very least, you told yourself to remain positive. There hasn’t been a time where you’ve seen Neteyam this angry, especially at you. He paused in his steps when he felt you were now far enough away from everyone. Neteyam let your hand fall to your sides, taking a deep breath, “you!” You flicked when he raised his voice, your fear only heightened at your sheer size difference. "Y-yea, me."

Neteyam huffed, his eyebrows furrowed and gaze piercing though you. “Why haven’t I seen you all evening” Normally, he kept all of his feelings under check, making sure to never express them in case they would upset someone else. Now, the anger radiated off of his shoulders and his words dripped with malice. His question came out as more of a demand, and you could feel your own anxiety spike up. “I was helping Kiri.”

“Helping? You were too busy swooning over fish lips to help anyone.” The words fell from his mouth faster than he could process, regret immediately flooding his system. You wished the ground would open up and Ewya would swallow you whole. “I- I-'' you choked on your own words, tears welling in your eyes. “You don’t love me anymore?” Your damned mask began to fog as you stumbled over your words.

Neteyam's hands were around your shoulders before you could even react, pulling you into him, “don’t cry please, you’ll suffocate to death.” His tone was gentle and he spoke softly, but you could still hear the pain in his voice. The tears came quicker now and your heart hurt. His large hands ran up and down your back in an attempt to calm you down.

"I- I'm sorry, I don't mean to," You sniffled, attempting to keep the tears in your eyes. Neteyam didn’t mean to make you cry, although seeing you like this for him was far better than watching you with the other. Shit, was this manipulation? He dropped down on his knees so you could almost be the same height, placing his hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “Shh, I still love you. I would never stop loving you. No matter the time we spend apart or the distance between us, you’re in my heart forever, yawne.”

He always knew the right things to say, it made your heart swell and warmth fill your body. Neteyam could make the worst situations feel okay. "I-I," Neteyam placed a hand over his heart, "you don’t need to say anything to me, I've upset you." You sniffled "I still love you too," Neteyam released a deep breath, his face turning stern once more. “Let me prove to you how much I care about you.”

It took minutes before you were laid out on the sand, your pants long discarded. Neteyam had your legs over his shoulders, devouring you. Your toes curled against the cool beach as the wind blew through your hair, the breeze from the water chilling the heat radiating off of you. It was a new sensation, his tongue rubbing circles around your clit. The feeling was foreign and intense, sending jolts throughout your body.

Your hips bucked as his fingers prodded at your entrance, forcing all three inside as an attempt to stretch you more. Neteyam growled in response, the noise sending vibrations throughout your core. His fingers pumped in and out of you, curling against the top of you to press into the soft spongy spot that had you crying out. Neteyam lapped at the wetness leaking out of you, drinking up every single drop of you.

His eyes met yours, you felt as if the whole world was spinning, a euphoric feeling bubbling inside you, building and building. Neteyam's tongue pressed against your clit once more and you felt the orgasm ripple through you, your walls contracting against his fingers and squeezing them. The pleasure was overwhelming and you couldn't do much but writhe and cry out as Neteyam brought you down from your high, licking you clean of your mess.

He pulled away and you whined at the loss of his body heat, until you heard the sounds of his loincloth falling to the ground. You pulled your head up off the ground and gasped, he was large, incredibly too large for you. His tip was a bruising purple, shining with precum. Your eyes nearly burst out of your skull, it looked painfully hard as his veins popped out. “T-teyam-”

Neteyam climbed on top of you, shushing you with his finger. “I’ll be gentle I promise,” he purred, his hand snaking down to his tip, rubbing the sticky liquid around the head before placing himself at your entrance. “I’m gonna claim you, mark you with my scent so no one else fucking touches you.” The head of his cock prodded at your entrance and the pressure was intense, your walls achingly slow stretching to fit him. "I can't," Neteyam pushed the head of his cock into you, forcing a choked cry from your lips. “Shh, just be a good girl for me.”

It hurt, yet it felt good in the most bizarre way, a tingling sensation shooting through your body as he pushed deeper and deeper inside you. “Oh ewya, you’re so fucking tiny, baby girl,” he groaned as he pushed deeper. His cock was stretching your walls, the pain slowly disappearing as you grew used to his size. You could feel him against the very base of your cervix, his hips pressing flush against your thighs. “F-f-fuck,” you choked out in a choked whimper, trying to get accustomed to his girth and length, it had to be the size of your forearm at least.

Neteyam began to pump into you slowly, giving you a few seconds to adjust to his length before snapping his hips and forcing the air out of your lungs, causing you to scream and arch your back. You couldn't believe the noises coming out of your own mouth, the moans and cries echoing around the beach. Neteyam moved painfully slowly, thrusting himself in and out of you.

He used one of his large hands to press against your stomach, feeling his cock move inside of you. “You feel that, yawne?I can feel myself moving inside of you. Fuck, you're so perfect, sweetheart, taking all of me inside you.” He hissed as his movements got faster and more erratic. The feeling was indescribable, the mixture of pain and pleasure that had your head spinning and mind hazy.

Neteyam couldn’t fit all of himself in you no matter how hard he tried, he settled for slamming into the top of your cervix, forcing a scream from your lips. He hoped everyone could hear you screaming his name from miles away. “You like that, baby?” Neteyam growled, you wrapped your arms around his neck, clawing at his shoulders. “Ssyes teyam, sgood,” you slurred your words, feeling the waves of euphoria begin to roll inside of you again.

His thrusts started to become faster, and your mind began going numb. Your cunt clenched around him as your eyes welled with tears. “Teyam, p-please. Please!" You stuttered between moans and whimpers. Neteyam wrapped a hand around your neck, squeezing softly. "That’s my girl,” his praise made you whimper for more. His cock was throbbing inside you, his seed threatening to spill at any moment. "Louder, yawne. Everyone has to know you’re all mine," he growled into your ear, putting emphasis on 'mine’. Your entire body was going limp beneath him.

Neteyam removed his hand from your neck, wrapping his arm underneath your legs, spreading them as far as they could go and angling you so that he hit the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you, pounding against it rapidly. Your vision started to turn blurry and you felt yourself begin to fall over the edge again, a new kind of wave washing over you, “F-Fuck! Tey- teyam- please in for me!"

Your cunt clamped down around him, forcing Neteyam to cry out, his thrusts becoming shallow and erratic. You could feel Neteyam release inside of you, ropes of hot cum filling your insides, mixing with your own fluids.

The sound of a twig snapping nearby pulled you both out of your haze, “Neteyam!” Jake’s booking voice echoed around the beach. Both of your heads shot to the left, staring at the mortified father whose eyes were boring into you. Oh, you were completely fucked.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The walk of shame you both endured was the most humiliating moment of your entire life. It was an excruciating silent trip back home but at the very least Jake waited until you boarded the helicopter, with a traumatized look on his face, before he called your mother. Without a doubt he told Neytiri soon after and you could only imagine her utter rage. Norm and Max said nothing, opting to stare out the window and dissociate from the entire situation completely. You were extremely grateful for their silence.

You couldn’t imagine the scolding he was about to receive, the punishment he was going to endure. Your mom, although mortified, let you off the hook easily. No avatar for another month, and no Neteyam for the rest of eternity. That one hurt, you felt the same soul crushing despair as you did when he first left.

On the other side of Pandora Neteyam remained completely unphased. He took the yelling, the punishment and everything else like a strong man. In the end he had won, you were covered in his scent and no one was going to touch you again. As for your future together? He had a plan for that too. Neteyam had already practically mated with you no matter what his mother said and once you’re in that new body, he would run away and do it again.

You may not realize it yet but he was coming back for you. One way or another you were going to come to the reef with him, be a part of his family, bear his children, and never ever leave his side again. Even if it meant disappointing his parents one final time, but he had hope in Ewya that would not be the case.

[lvlyghost]

In the Midst of War: IV

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Shadow!Reader

SUMMARY: Home is no longer where it used to be. Left with no one else you wonder who your friends and foes are.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

TW: poorly written action lol. Fluff, hurt with so much comfort 🤭. Suggestive but no smut yet🌝. Mind the english!🐸 lmk if i missed any.

A/N: okay so this was supposed to be longer but decided to split the last part for chapter v 🐣 it'll be worth it i promise. next part is coming up sooner! as you know i do a lot of double shifts at work and December is the busiest season for me at work lol, just bear with me💖 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🩵

Masterlist✨

"𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒅."

It's a cold night by the time you get to the safe house in a secluded street somewhere outside Kaindorf. Ghost grunts standing next to you, one of his arms draped over your shoulders to help him keep steady or at least as much as you can help with someone his size. The mission —your first mission since Las Almas— had been successful until it wasn't. You type the code and wait until the door opens with a mechanic sound revealing a not so bad interior. The whole place is silent when you walk in, mirroring the dead of the night. No sound of cars outside not even the sound of the wind to accompany you.

"How are you doing Ghost?" You turn your face to him, he's already staring down at you, noticing the struggle that comes with trying to hold part of his weight. This is not how things should've played out. Yet there he was. A nasty bullet wound on his left shoulder and another to his leg; the latter being just a graze but still hurt like hell.

"Never been better." He growls. And you know he's trying to act nonchalantly. That's just who he is. Who you've come to know. But his injury, especially the one on his shoulder is no joke. You had tried to stop the bleeding right before digging for the bullet. The amount of pain he must've been in was as bad as yours a few weeks ago "How did we miss them?" He mutters under his breath, no doubt recalling the events.

"I don't know. But we'll find out." You lead him to the nearest couch in the corner of the living room and turning on the lamp next to him. Ghost sits down struggling to find a position where he feels comfortable enough. "Alright..." swallowing down you look him in the eyes. "I need to check your wounds again and clean them up properly, okay?"Ghost closes his eyes for a second before nodding, he's too lightheaded to do anything else or maybe it was the morphine you gave him before, he doesn't know anymore.

Trotting back to the truck you unload the duffel bags where all your weapons and medical supplies lie. Closing the door shut and locking it before returning to where the Lieutenant rests. The lamp is turned off again so you can only make the outline of everything. You stop in your tracks dropping one of the bags and shuffle nervously.

"Umm, Ghost?" He hums in acknowledgment. "I can't see anything, do you mind turning...-"

"No." His response comes fast. "I'm not wearing the bloody mask."

So he had taken it off the moment you walked out.

"Then how am I supposed to look at your wounds?" Rolling your eyes you start approaching.

He growls something unintelligible and then adds:

"Fine just don't bloody look up or...-"

"Don't worry, I've no interest in looking at your face."

But the truth was that you wanted nothing more than to see him. The real him. You had dreamed about his face. What would he look like? The small parts of Ghost that you had taken a glimpse of were not enough to make you any less curious. For all you knew was that he most likely was blond. His eyelashes are so light that you wonder if his hair is the same shade. He has soft pink lips and a strong jaw. All of him was huge. Massive. You would never say it out loud but you felt drawn to him.

"Afraid you might like what you see?"

You snort, walking towards him and kneeling in front of the couch he's sitting on. His eyes follow every move you make, never looking up in the process. You slowly peel off the bandages you had previously wrapped around his right leg.

"Does it hurt?" You ask, taking the disinfectant out as you begin to clean up his wound again.

"Not that one." For a moment you almost forget that you're not supposed to look up, but you do. You were trying to take a quick glance to his shoulder, instead laying eyes on his face.

"Shit." You bow your head down as quickly, apologizing profusely to Ghost and expecting some sort of angry reaction from him but he remains in complete silent. "I- I didn't even really see anything, forgive me Sir."

"Fucking hell." He growled. "It doesn't matter. Just don't do it again."

It was true. You barely even saw the entirety of his face. Just pale skin, light brows and a crooked nose from being broken too many times.

"Okay." You swallow hard, hands slightly shaking when your skin makes contact with his much colder one.

Ghost shifts in his seat seemingly uncomfortable with something you can't put a finger on. "Think it's time to stitch that one up." You gesture to where his shoulder should be not daring to look again. Fumbling with the needle and thread waiting for his permission. There's no verbal answer to your previous statement, only a low hum that's enough for you to stand up and silently sit on the armrest next to him, his face is turned the other way hiding himself from you. "You know you can just put it back on?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Yeah, right." brows lifting in surprise. "Want me to get you something for the pain?"

"Get it done, kid."

Breathing deeply you oblige.

Ghost's whole body tenses with the first sting of the needle piercing through his skin. Your eyes are fixated on your work but every now and then they travel to the back of his head. Blond hair. So you were right; and you can't fight back the grin that appears on your lips. You're marveled by something so simple as that; if only he'd let you come closer...

"I think it's my turn to cook something for you. All this time you've taken care of me."

"You don't have to. I was doing what I was told."

Blinking you tap his shoulder lightly to get his attention. Ghost merely turns so a small part of his side face shows, still not enough for you to see.

"I want to." Even if he says it was his job. Even if it didn't mean anything to him. All you needed was a way to thank him for what he had done. That was who you were. How you were taught to be. Grateful amongst adversity. "I'm a good cook I promise."

One last stitch. One more. And then you're done, and his body relaxes as you come to stand gathering the medical supplies while looking down the floor. Before you leave he reaches out, grabbing your wrist in a gentle yet firm grip. Eyes going wide.

"You can look now." His voice is low and when you turn he's put the balaclava back on. Big brown eyes staring with intensity. "Thanks for what you did back there."

You stutter when you speak, something about the way he holds you makes you forget how to form words.

"I had to. It was my job, although I failed..."

"You didn't fail." He growls. You motion at his wounds, embarrassed because you knew you could do better than that. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Your mouth hangs open, lips quivering when his words reach your ears. All this time you've tried to look calm. To appear strong when in reality everything has gone from bad to worse; it began with the loss of your former team and the people you held close and dear. People you thought would be there for you for eternity. And then all of the sudden there were none. Alone in a dirty side road to die, you guess that in the end there were no good people. Just soldiers following orders. But standing in front of a man who was always portrayed as the devil himself maybe... just maybe not all hope was lost. And not all people were bad. Much to your dismay, Ghost stands from his place on the old couch, rising in all his massive glory as he takes one firm step closer to you. Your hands threaten to let everything fall onto the floor, breath getting stuck in your throat. You're lucky. So, so goddamn lucky that he's your ally. Someone who, in these past weeks has become something you don't dare to name.

"At ease soldier." He commands in a hushed voice. And he's close. Too damn close you feel the heat radiate off of him. It makes your skin burn and hands sweat. "I'm just looking at you."

-

Ghost is terrifying when you look at him in full gear. The white skull mask a legend itself among all the military forces in the world. Hushed stories told during late nights back on base. You had never met him nor had the chance to work with him. All you knew was that. Never in a million years would you have thought you'd have to be his eyes from the distance; to be the one who guards him. Your finger caresses the trigger of your sniper rifle, ready to shoot at anyone who you deemed dangerous.

"Should've brought my own mattress." You huff, shifting your body to find a more comfortable position.

"You've been out for a few weeks. It can't be that bad." His deep voice talks right into your ear.

"My stomach was literally reattached, Lt."

A deep chuckle that doesn't last long enough can be heard.

"If you can't do it let me know. I can take you back to your room, yeah?"

"I'm having a hard time deciding if that's a good or bad thing, sir."

"The latter, Vesper."

Laughing you turn your head, maybe it's the paranoia of being back but you feel someone constantly watching you from behind.

"How's that a bad thing? Thought you liked me in my room."

You can practically hear him suck in a breath and then a muttered curse.

"Not when you're injured and nearly comatose." He grunts after a few seconds of silence.

Oh.

Oh.

"Well then's a good thing i'm here."

The mission was rather simple. Break in, gather some intel and get out. Nothing was supposed to go sideways but it did. It had started with the room where the intel was supposed to be.

"Vesper." You hear Ghost calling you. "There's civilians in here." His voice drops an octave.

"What?" A shiver runs down your spine. "They are not supposed to be there." All you hear is the sound of muffled voices. Cries for help. Ghost swearing under his breath. And then shots are fired.

Your heart races when the first couple of hostiles appear through your scope. Not being one to hesitate you aim to their heads and fire.

"Vesper sitrep." Ghost barks, his end way more chaotic than yours.

"Hostiles coming in groups. You need to get out of there asap."

"Bloody hell." It's all he says before another round of shots is fired. "Meet me at the evac point."

"I'm not leaving you behind!"

Shifting your scope to look through one of the windows you watch as a dark figure runs downstairs. Ghost is trying to make his way to the back exit when another group reaches the abandoned building. You effectively take out the first three men that jump out of the black van. Then another ominous creak of crunching leaves in the god forsaken roof of the house across, rolling on your back your turn at the exact moment a bullet is fired your way, and hitting the the ground where you previously laid prone.

Wide-eyed your face pales as recognition hits your features.

You know him. And he knows you too.

-

His big hand lifts slowly as if asking permission to touch you to which you give a small nod. Ghost is looking at a spot on your left cheek his thumb softly caressing the soft skin of your face. You don't know why but you find yourself leaning into his touch.

"How'd you get this?" An unknown look is all you give him. "There's a scratch, right 'ere." Careful not to hurt you or cause you any pain he keeps his motion.

"Must've been when we ran through the woods." You mumble. "I'm sure I didn't let any of them get me."

"Atta girl." A small pause settles when all you hear is the sound of the night outside. Crickets and the now casual passing of cars far in the distance, returning from work, oblivious to the dangers of the world. Some things they'd never heard of before, things they wouldn't witness in their lifetime. "Better me than you."

You melt at his words. Heart nearly beating out of your chest. It's like your body acts out of pure impulse. Hands —your hands— grab the sides of his neck pulling him down just enough that his forehead touches yours, and you rest there with ragged breathing fanning over his face. Closing your eyes you weigh in your options. Break the moment and tell him about the encounter with the man back in the roof, or let yourself feel him? Because truth be told this could only mean one thing. Ghost wanted to be near you in ways that were not professional at all. And hell you wanted that too from the moment you saw him. You just didn't know it.

If the things you heard were true he didn't let just anyone close to him. What was so special about you? You wanted to ask, but you feared that even if you moved, this thing would be broken and the moment would slip through your fingers.

In a quick movement you go from standing in the middle of the living room to sitting on the nearest table, you shriek as Ghost slots himself between your legs. Seemingly unfazed by what he just did you then see the corner of his eyes crinkle. He's smiling under the mask.

"You're hurt. You'll reopen the wound and..."

"I don't care, sweetheart. I've got you where I want you." A sheepish smile forms on your lips and your cheeks grow hot. "One word. Say it and I will stop."

You nod right before he lifted his mask and his lips crash down on you.

Part 5

TAGS:

@fictionallifestuff

[romana-after-dark]

Finish the Job

Yandere!Jake Lockley x GN!reader

Join Dark!Romana's tag list

Dark!Romana's Masterlist

Summary: After months living in a room with only Jake, Steven and Marc as company, you can't say you aren't content most of the time. Sometimes, however you make a little trouble and Jake reminds you that he is the only one who can keep you safe.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Yandere!Jake. Reader is kidnapped. Implied/referenced rape (reader 'never said no' according to jake, but rather just gave in after an unclosed amount of time bc they were lonely/manipulated. The circumstances of this are v vague but remember, if you feel like you have to, its not consent.) Jake Lockley typical violence. Referenced past abuse.

A/N: I began writing this fem reader, as most of my fics are since I am fem, but I realized there was no reason this couldn't be gender neutral. So, that's what it is. If I missed changing anything that makes it seem like reader is fem presenting, lmk and I'll edit it but I looked through this several times.

*************************

You couldn’t say the bed was uncomfortable. You couldn’t say the room was bland or boring. You couldn’t say you had nothing to do. It was a great room, actually. If you were being honest, you loved it here…

The problem was you couldn’t leave. When the man had taken you, it took a while to figure out what was going on with him; it was Steven that explained it, the DID. Honestly, maybe the mental disorder should have scared you more, but you were well versed in different disorders so it wasn’t something that phased you, rather than just made it a challenge to navigate your situation. You were given book after book after book to read, to entertain you when outside of Marc Steven and Jake’s company; it didn't matter how many you went through, you just had them. If you were feeling brave, you made requests but honestly after the boredom of the first month while you were still fighting it, you took what you could get. You were even given a laptop, although it couldn’t possibly connect to the internet, but you were writing. They didn’t even make you show them what you wrote, but Steven would often sit on the bed while you read to him your poems or short stories. You were saving your novel for when it’s finished.

Some days were better than others. 

Some days you and Steven talked for hours.

Some days you and Marc marathonned Star Wars.

Some days Jake held you so warm and so tightly you forgot they kidnapped you.

Today was not one of those days.

You were angry, you were upset, you missed your friends and you missed the outside, you wanted fresh air and you didn’t want to spread your legs for a man that took you away from everything you knew and wanted. 

“Why are you giving me so much fucking attitude today?!” Jake shouts at you, pacing the floor of your room so aggressively he had your throw rug all twisted up.

You were sat up on your bed, shouting back. “You KIDNAPPED ME, you HURT ME you RAPE ME-”

“CALLATE!” He screamed, storming towards you so fast you flinch and scramble back to the wall. “You know I don’t like when you call it that!”

A sardonic laugh. “What? Rape?”

“I never forced you! I never held you down! I never got you too drunk or high to resist-”

“YOU TOOK ME AWAY FROM EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE, WHAT OTHER OPTION DID I HAVE!”

His face is suddenly right up to yours, so close your nose brushed his briefly as he speaks in a dark, quiet voice. “I never heard you say no, mi vida”

He was right. You hadn’t. But they had worn you down, twisted your mind so much that eventually you just began… giving in.

He continued talking, his voice rumbling with the low octive “I only hurt you in the beginning, carino. Just until you began to listen. You needed it, didn’t you? Someone to take you away from everything, take care of you, feed you. Baby, we adore you, and it hurts us when you fight like this.”

Your eyes wheeled up with tears at his words. It’s true, you had become so dependent on them… you weren’t sure you could even shower alone anymore. You’d be lucky if you remembered how to toast bread. Sickeningly, a part of you liked it. You liked he cared for, pampered, adored, and fuck, worshiped. You had time to write, time to listen to music and podcasts. If you need to look up something for a book or research something from a podcast that interested you, you just asked, and the boys would monitor you. You didn’t really need anything except some goddamn freedom. What was that they said in The Handmaid’s Tale? There’s freedom too, and freedom from… They offered you freedom from, and made that clear.

“The world is dangerous, precioso. You know that as well as I do… perhaps better.” With a cocked eyebrow, Jake referenced your past trauma’s, forcing the tears to spill over. “You are too precious, too perfect to be put at risk again. Your family didn’t protect you, but I will.”

Still, you are ever-defiant, shaking your head. “N-no… you aren’t protecting me. You’re hurting me…” but even then, you couldn’t manage much conviction. You hadn’t so much as burned your tongue since Steven, Marc, and Jake took you, and he was right… the rest was just discipline. 

Jake frowned, but simple stood up. He went over to your desk, taking out a Glee notepad he’d found on ebay for you and a pen, tossing them in your direction.

“Write them down, all the names.”

You look at him confused. “W-what names?”

He stalked forward, once again close to you.

“Give me the full name of anyone who has ever hurt you or touched you without your consent.” His gaze was focused, intense. You knew he was on a mission when he looked at you like that.

“I don’t… I don’t know all their full names…”

“If you have workplace addresses, any identifying information that’s helpful. I promise you, I’ll take whatever you give me and I will find them. Every single person who has ever caused you pain.”

“What are you going to do?” You didn’t really need to ask, but you did anyway.

“You and I both know. Now write.”

The list was long, longer than any one person’s list should be. A few, you only remembered their first name so you wrote down what you knew… Jake had his ways. Still, you had some cheek in you, and when Jake looked at the paper, he frowned.

“What the fuck is this.” He smacked the paper with his hand. After the list of people who had violated or harmed you before you came here, were three names Jake recognized right away.

Jake Lockley

Steven Grant

Marc Spector

“You told me to write the names of anyone who hurt me or touched me without-” SMACK! Your head flung to the side from the backhand, and when your turned back to face him, his hand gripped your throat.

“You think this is funny, carino?” His face pressed against yours. “How do you think Marc would feel if he saw his name on that list?”

Your lip quivered at that… you didn’t want Marc to see. Marc was special to you, and Jake knew it; he often exploited your relationship with his alter for his own benefit.

“I’m sorry” You cried, apologetic.

His grip on you loosened, and he looked back at you with sympathetic eyes. Letting go, he tore the bottom three names off the paper and tucked the offenders into his pocket. “I know you are, amor. Now, you sit here pretty, and don’t worry about a damn thing for the rest of your life, si?”

It took about a month. He never left you for more than one day at a time, but he always made sure you had food and were provided for, even giving you access to the bathroom. You didn’t dare even look for an exit; they wouldn’t have left anything vulnerable, and you were on camera, you knew. It would just cause trouble.

It was after one of those such nights where you were alone that he came back to you, still somehow looking put together after being out all night. You knew he hadn’t slept. You awake to his footsteps, heavy boots on your polished hard wood floor. As you stir, a piece of paper is placed on your pillow.

Sitting up you rub your eyes. “Jake, what’s- ” But you are stopped in the middle of your sentence. Every single name is crossed out on the list you had given him. “Does… does what mean they are dead?”

He steps forward, slipping to stand between your knees and bedding over, placing his hands on your thighs. His face was intensely close to yours, dark eyes piercing yours. You lean forward, accepting him in, existing in his precise. Jake did this for you. You were safe here, none of these people could hurt you… but because they had, whether months ago or decades, it didn’t matter. They were dead because they had crossed you, because they had dared to touch what Jake Lockley laid claim to. Jake, Marc and Steven… they were where you belonged.

 “Jake Lockley finishes the job.”

**************

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @howaboutcastiel @the-fox-den @fandxmslxt69

[unbridgeabledistances]

I love your last fic so much it got me thinking could you write something about like the gallaghers( +Kev and v and sandy etc) observing Ian and Mickey’s relationship? Like their perspectives of seeing them be soft with each other and just their dynamic? I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense lol <3

hiiiii anon!<3 okay i want to start off by saying that this got WAY too long, bc i loved this prompt a lot- so much that i think i might make this a multi-part thing on ao3! i started with sandy (since i am in love with her) but i’ll also go through the gallaghers/kev & v soon- lmk if u guys want me to continue, and who u would want me to write next if i do (or if u want me to continue with sandy lol i have lots of thoughts and feelings)

this ended up taking place in s10 when we first meet sandy, fyi:) also tw for brief mentions of abuse (as always, bc of terry 🙄) -- and there is a reference to the line in 10x07 that jokes about mickey and sandy for a brief moment

--

When Sandy heard her phone buzz on that Tuesday afternoon, sitting on the stained and lumpy couch in her shithead uncle’s living room while drinking a beer and arguing with Alek about what type of insurance fraud could make the biggest payout, she had no idea what to expect on the other end of the line. The phone kept ringing, the contact info lighting up the screen: MICKEY.

Mickey? Shit. It had been a long fucking time. Between her own various juvie stints as a kid and Mickey’s time behind bars overlapping just as she got released, Sandy hadn’t seen Mickey since… high school, maybe? Whenever it was, it was back when Mickey was a grimy kid with spikey hair and dirty fingernails, a kid with an obsession with guns and way too much time on his hands, back when they would hang out by the train tracks and drink beer and get way too high and do stupid shit; all in all, back when everything was a hell of a lot simpler. Sandy assumed Mickey had met Royal and been clued in about her shitshow of a life at some point while she’d been gone, and they’d possibly overlapped at a family party or two a few years ago when they both were in town— but other than hearing about the aftershocks of Mickey coming out and driving Terry up a goddamn wall, so much so that Terry broke his parole and was headed straight back to prison hours after his release, Sandy hadn’t seen Mickey in forever.

Which is why this call intrigued her so much— Mickey was supposed to be in prison for at least a couple more years, or at least that’s what his brothers had said, so why the fuck was he using a cell phone right now?

Sandy nodded her head towards the cellphone, cutting Alek off mid-sentence and sliding her thumb across the screen to pick up the call. Before saying anything, she rose off the creaky springs of the couch and speedwalked out to the front porch before answering— whatever the fuck Mickey wanted, she assumed he was calling her because this conversation wasn’t for the ears of any other Milkoviches. She lit a cigarette and leaned against the post of the front stoop, listening to the silence hanging heavy on her phone’s speaker.

“Mickey? You there?”

A low chuckle came from the other end of the line.

“Fuck. Been a long time.” Mickey’s voice sounded the same; punchy and snarky, maybe a little gruffer and raspier after years of cigarette smoke. Sandy waited a moment for Mickey to give more of a reply, or an explanation for his call, but it was clear that Mickey wasn’t going to give one right away— it was like he was testing the waters, like he was deciding if making this call was the right move. Soft static echoed on the phone line.

Sandy totally got it— reemerging from a life of cinderblock cell walls and barbed wire fences fucking sucked, especially when you were a Milkovich and the moment you got out you were faced with a choice, an opportunity: did you want to go back home, or did you want to start fresh, erase your own name, and forget this dysfunctional family ever existed? Sandy knew she felt the same way when she got out. Mickey deciding to call Sandy was a big fucking move, and she realized that— reclaiming your life as a Milkovich on the brink of a new beginning took guts.

“So, I take it you’re out of prison?” Sandy asked after a moment, inhaling another slow puff of her cigarette.

There was that laugh again— Sandy had weirdly missed it. Honestly, Mickey hadn’t ever been too bad to be around— they’d both felt like outsiders in the family, had both always had a strong head on their shoulders and a fucking moral compass, unlike the rest of Terry’s sheep who did his bidding and got swastikas tattooed on their chest. When he was younger Mickey used to follow Terry and his older brothers around like a lost puppy, and he even got those fucking knuckle tats—but later in high school, Sandy remembered seeing something deep snap inside him, bleeding out in “STAY THE FUCK OUT” and “FUCK LOVE” signs taped onto his bedroom walls. At the time she thought it was the fucked-up shit with Terry and Mandy driving him up a wall— but now she realized the constant bombardment of homophobia, coupled with the cuts and bruises blooming on his cheeks and the cigarette burn scars on his arms, must have been signs of Mickey realizing the rude awakening that was inevitably going to come if he wanted to be who he was. Sandy couldn’t even imagine— no one really gave a shit who she fucked, and her cousins didn’t know anything about her sex life—but she couldn’t fathom being Terry’s son, the pride and joy of the Milkovich clan, and needing to outwardly admit those deeper parts of herself.

“Yup, I’m free to join civilization as of this morning. Overcrowding or some shit.” Sandy could hear Mickey also taking a drag of a cigarette on the other end of the line. She smirked to herself. Guess we both didn’t break the Milkovich nicotine addiction.

“So, uh, listen,” Mickey continued, and Sandy immediately knew he was in deep shit if she was the one he was calling to ask for a favor. “I’m in a bit of a… situation. Don’t wanna go into too many specifics, but there might be a massive fucking Mexican cartel after me right now.”

Sandy barked out a laugh before she could help herself. Fucking Mickey. “Oh yeah? Sounds like you’re feeling thrilled to be a free man again.”

Mickey chuckled again. “Fuck you. But hey, d’you think you can bring my shit by to me, so I don’t have to stop by the house and get fucking killed? You don’t gotta rush or whatever, just didn’t wanna show my face quite yet.”

Sandy could feel all the unsaid things wrapped in the way Mickey’s sentence ended. Didn’t want to show his face quite yet because of this cartel bullshit, or because of Terry? She decided it didn’t really matter— Mickey was a good guy, she could spend an hour or so rounding up his shit and bringing it to him if that’s what he needed.

“Got it.” She blew out more smoke, watching it curl and drift over the wasteland of the front yard on a gust of summer air.

Mickey cleared his throat, like he was gearing up to say more. When he spoke, his voice was softer around the edges, more genuine than before.

“I’m, uh. I’m sure you heard everything about me while I was gone. About Terry flipping his shit. Probably not the best idea for me to come around the house quite yet—my brothers n’ I haven’t really talked much since then either.” He paused, inhaling another drag of his cigarette. “I figured you’d get it. And hey, if you can bring the stuff by, I’d love to hear all the badass shit you’ve been up to the past few years.”

Sandy nearly winced—yeah, if by “badass shit” you mean getting forcibly married to a douchebag and then couch surfing for months— but she tried to keep her shit together for Mickey’s sake. She stubbed out her cigarette on the railing of the porch, straightening from where she was leaning.

“I’ve got it Mickey, don’t worry about it. Where are you right now, anyways?”

She could hear the hint of relief bleeding into Mickey’s voice when he replied. “I’m at the Gallagher house? The grey one by the tracks.”

Sandy rolled her eyes. “I was in jail for a couple of years Mickey, not braindead. I know where the Gallagher house is.”

Mickey huffed out a breath, but there wasn’t any sharpness in it. “Excuse me for tryin’ to be helpful, smartass.”

“Why the fuck are you there, anyways?”

“I’m, uh, crashing with my partner for now. Ian?”

Holy shit, Mickey was still fucking Ian Gallagher? Sandy had pieced together that Ian was the reason Mickey came out months after getting married to some Russian bitch, and according to Iggy the whole reason Mickey went to jail in the first place was some love-crazed revenge plot on Ian’s behalf— but since getting locked up Mickey hadn’t kept in touch with anyone, other than a shady-as-fuck message to his brothers after he’d busted out of prison letting everyone know that he was in Mexico, despite getting thrown back into jail in Chicago a couple months later. Sandy didn’t really know the details, and she especially didn’t know anything about Mickey’s love life— but it was wild as fuck that someone as unsettled and ruthless and batshit crazy as Mickey could’ve been with the same person all this time, especially someone as seemingly bland as Ian Gallagher. Huh. Wonder if I’ll get to see Ian.

“Got it. I’ll round up your shit and bring it by the Gallagher house later today. And don’t worry, I won’t let anyone know you called til you’re ready.”

Mickey exhaled on the other end of the line. “There shouldn’t be much, just check the drawers or whatever. “

Sandy knew for a fact that most of Mickey’s lingering possessions had probably been taken, sold, or thrown out by a zealously homophobic Terry by now, but she wasn’t going to say as much to Mickey over the phone.

“I’m on it. See you in a couple hours.”

“Hey, Sandy?” Mickey blew out a long breath, and this time Sandy couldn’t tell if it was because he was still smoking or because he was riding a wave of relief, releasing the floodgates of anxiousness he’d been holding in the whole conversation. “Thanks. I fuckin’ owe you one.”

Sandy smirked. Maybe Mickey being let out of jail early was a good thing, despite how fucked his whole situation seemed— maybe, for once, someone in her family would be fun to be around, wouldn’t set her teeth on edge every two seconds by making a racist comment or forcing her to be something she wasn’t.

“I’ll text you when I’m almost at your love nest.”

She imagined Mickey’s grin as he replied. “Fuck you. See ya soon.”

**

After scraping through every rickety dresser drawer in Terry’s house for nearly an hour, Sandy could barely come up with anything that was reportedly Mickey’s: a couple of tattered shirts, an impressively overused-looking bong, and a single sneaker she’d left behind because she couldn’t find the other one. She threw it all in some shitty burlap rucksack she’d found on one of the bedroom floors, assuming no one would miss it— it dawned on her that maybe her cousins were lying, and some of the other stuff in the house was still Mickey’s, but she’d collected what she could based on the whispered directions Alek and Iggy had given her when Terry was out of the room.

Sandy unlocked her phone, and typed a quick message to Mickey. “Out front.”

Mickey’s reply came quickly, and Sandy noticed the front curtains rustling on the top floor of the Gallagher house.

“Coming down”

The front door creaked open, and Mickey walked out onto the front porch. He looked good; he looked cleaner, sure, but also like a fucking adult—like he’d grown into himself, like he actually carried himself with confidence instead of just pretending to. He nodded his chin up at Sandy in acknowledgement.

“Long time no see.” He smirked, leaning on the banister. “You make a good delivery service. All those hauls we did with Terry must’ve been good training.”

Sandy lazily walked up the front steps, reaching the bag out in front of her for Mickey to take. “Here’s all the shit I could find. It’s not much.”

Mickey jerked his head to the open door behind him. “You wanna come in for a sec?”

Sandy grinned. Why the fuck not. “Sure."

So that was how she found herself perched on what was presumably Ian Gallagher’s bed, watching Mickey ruffle through the burlap bag, his brows furrowed as he realized just how much of his shit was actually gone.

“This everything?”

“As much as I could find.”

They comfortably chatted back and forth about how everyone was— Sandy decided to divulge the fact that Mickey’s brothers were idiots who tried to crawl in bed with her every night, which is something that she had to joke about so she didn’t go fucking insane sleeping under the same roof as them.

“Fuck ‘em, chop their nuts off next time they try it.”

Sandy smirked. Finally, a decent fucking relative. She made some hollow joke about staying with Mickey, alluding to the extra-shitty night decades ago when their cousins had forced them to make out when they were way too high on something.

“Or I could stay here with you. Have fun like we did when we were kids.”

“You know that’s fucked up, right? We’re fucking cousins!”

“Plus he’s taken.” A voice came from around the corner.

Ian Gallagher looked bigger, taller, and more solid than Sandy remembered; he was definitely miles away from the scrawny kid with the bangs who worked at the Kash N Grab that Sandy and her cousins endlessly used to fuck with in middle school. Ian’s shoulders were wide, his body imposing in the tiny room; immediately, Mickey’s aggravated stance softened when Ian walked in, wrapped in a towel from the waist down.

“Oh right, you.” Sandy grinned as Ian hunched over the bed and grabbed his deodorant from the nightstand.

Mickey had turned back to the bag of clothes. “Hey, I had shampoo and shit, is there soap anywhere?”

Sandy rolled her eyes. “You’ve been gone for years, you think your brothers would save that shit for you?” she bit out— and okay, maybe she was a little pissed at Mickey’s brothers for the constant-sexual-assault thing.

Ian just applied his deodorant and leaned in close to Mickey as he passed by the bed towards the doorframe. “You can use mine. We’ll hit Costco later, I’m getting paid.”

It was stupid, but Sandy felt something soft pang in her chest at Ian’s words; it was just now that she was realizing it, but she didn’t think she’d ever seen someone take care of Mickey before, or so… automatically factor Mickey’s needs into a situation. Being a Milkovich was all about scrounging and scraping, and guarding what little you had; a Milkovich would never let someone use their fucking soap just because they cared about them, or not as an immediate reaction anyways.

“Nah, I can’t, man. PO texted me when you were in the shower, he’s got a job for me.”

Ian kept looking at Mickey from where he was leaning in the doorway. “Then give me a list of shit you need, and I’ll pick it up for you,” Ian said in an overly simple tone, like he was mocking the fact that Mickey didn’t realize Ian would run an errand for him.

Sandy smirked. Jesus, Gallagher is whipped.

“Isn’t that cute, little domestic bitches,” Sandy crooned before she could help herself.

Ian stepped into the room again and leaned in towards Mickey, pressing a kiss to Mickey’s cheek while Mickey aggressively tried to uncrumple one of the pile of shirts from the bag.

“Mm, thank you,” Ian said in reply, his voice muffling as he smushed his face closer to Mickey’s.

Mickey instantly smiled smugly as Ian’s lips pressed against his cheek—then he noticed Sandy was staring, so he flipped her off and smiled even wider. What the fuck? Sure, Mickey had flipped Sandy off, but he was practically fucking beaming in a way that Sandy had never seen. God, wonder if I’ll find this shit someday.

Ian detached himself from Mickey and walked out of the room, Mickey’s eyes lingering on his torso. Once Ian had turned the corner Mickey snapped back to attention, fixing his eyes back onto the small mountain of clothes spread on the bed in front of him. Mickey lifted the bong off the bedsheets, and met Sandy’s gaze. 

“You have to go, or d’you wanna hang for a bit? I don’t have to be at work for a couple hours, and it’s gonna suck enough that I should probably be high before I get there.”

Sandy grinned. “Hell yeah, I’m down.”

**

They sat on the rickety back steps of the Gallagher house, silently taking hits and passing the bong back and forth. It had been years since they’d been in the same space, but Sandy and Mickey easily sank into a comfortable silence, passively surrounded by the shrieks of kids playing across the alleyway and the bubbling of water as they inhaled. Mickey blew smoke out of his nose, then sat back so he was leaning against the banister and passed the glass pipe to Sandy.

“So,” Sandy started as she held the lighter to the bong and inhaled deeply. “Ian Gallagher.”

Mickey huffed out a laugh. “Yup. That’s some Romeo and Juliet shit for ya.”

Sandy smirked as she exhaled. “You really fucking love him, huh?”

Mickey eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly as he looked towards her. “Yeah. Guess I do.” He took the bong from Sandy’s outstretched hand. “Took me forever to get shit straight with him, though.”

Ah. So their road to domestic bliss wasn’t as straightforward as it seemed. Sandy’s curiosity was growing.

“Because of shit with Terry?”

Mickey stiffened, coughing a bit as he exhaled smoke, like Sandy’s question caught him off guard. “Shit. Yeah. That too. Let’s just say there were lots of fucking ups and downs, and we both had a lot of shit to unpack.”

Sandy snickered. “You sound like a fucking couples therapist.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “If you wanna see couples therapy, I should tell you about the months me and Ian were sharing a fucking cell. We nearly ripped each other’s heads off. We literally stabbed someone so one of us might get sent to fucking solitary.”

Sandy’s laughter grew. “Are you fucking serious?”

Mickey grinned, and passed the bong back to Sandy again. “Fuck. Yeah. I fucking love him, though. He’s fucking crazy, and I still can’t let him go.” Mickey looked off into the distance across the alleyway, and either the weed was really hitting him right now, or he was being a very sappy motherfucker.

Sandy nudged Mickey’s knee. “You guys are cute together.” Mickey’s eyebrows raised when he heard the word “cute,” and Sandy quickly tried to rephrase. “Not cute, but y’know. Good for each other. You seem happy. Happy is... good.”

Mickey nodded pensively. “How’re you doing, anyways?”

Sandy shrugged noncommittally. “Eh. We can talk about me another time. How the fuck did you and Ian end up sharing a jail cell, anyways?”

Mickey let out a throaty laugh. “I heard Gallagher was getting locked up when I was down south, so I essentially pulled some strings and fucking snitched on the cartel I was working for. Hauled my ass back up here so we could be together.”

Holy fuck. Sandy’s jaw nearly dropped. “Mickey, you’re batshit crazy.” She shoved him squarely in the chest this time. “Are you fucking serious?! You evaded the feds, were living in Mexico, and you came back for Ian Gallagher?”

Mickey rolled his eyes again, placing the bong on the steps. “I can’t explain it, man. I just didn’t wanna be anywhere else, I guess.”

Sandy leaned back onto the banister. “Shit.” She paused for a moment, wondering if she should ask the next question. “Do you… want me to tell anyone you’re back?”

Mickey glanced over at her, his eyes alert. “Nah. Not yet. That okay with you?”

Sandy nodded. “Of course.” Mickey pulled out his phone, checking the time and presumably looking for a distraction from tiptoeing around talking about Terry— but Sandy had to tell him, had to let him know one more thing.

“Hey, Mickey?”

Mickey looked up. “Yeah?”

“I don’t really know the details of what went down with Terry, or whatever— but I just wanted to let you know that… if you ever wanna come home, I’m on your side. No questions asked. And I think a lot of the others are, too.”

The corner of Mickey’s mouth ticked upward. “Thanks.”

Sandy stood, checking her phone and zipping her leather jacket. “Well, I’d probably let you sober up a bit before your big parolee first day of work.”

Mickey raised a middle finger up to her from where he was seated, but then rose to stand.

“Thanks for comin’ by. And hey—you’re free to crash here anytime. There’s a million fucking kids running around all the time, but there’s always a couch or something open if everyone at home’s giving you too much shit.”

Sandy felt something warm growing in her chest. It had been a long fucking time since someone offered to take care of her, just because they could, just because they wanted to— maybe being a Milkovich wasn’t half bad. Maybe there were some good ones.

Sandy nodded in acknowledgement, and turned to walk down the creaky back steps. Wow. If Sandy was sure of one thing right now, it was that Mickey really, really fucking loved Ian Gallagher.

[acrobaticcatfeline]

Logan and his Little Bumble Bee (Single Dads AU) Chapter 3!!!

Word Count: 4585

TW: swearing, arguing, deceit, a bit of angst at the end but not much I think that’s it? lmk if I missed anything!!!

Notes: I’ve had part of this written for a long time but I finished it in the last couple of days in desperation for people to like my writing. Basically I forced my creativity into submission with my constant need of validation. I really hope you like it, as your enjoyment was what I was craving. last chapter here, first chapter here!

Pairings: logicality, roceit, familial logince, moxiety, analogical, royality, and prinxiety yeah it’s a lot of family but look at the AU ok gimme a break.

Summary: “padre!!! We gotta go Vee has a game and I have a performance afterwards!!! We gotta go we gotta go!!!” In the past four years Patton and Logan have only fallen more in love, so much so that Patton wants to make that extra step. Virgil is a soccer player and while waiting for his step brother outside the changing rooms so they can head to his performance, Roman meets a handsome boy with stunning eyes. Finding out that he’s a friend of Virgils, he spends the next week hanging out with him and his twin, only for it to culminate in a fateful moment at a slumber party.

“padre!!! We gotta go Vee has a game and I have a performance afterwards!!! We gotta go we gotta go!!!”

Roman grabbed his father’s boyfriend Patton and started to pull him to the door. Patton was a good head and a half taller than the kid, but his boyfriend Logan, Roman’s father, was ever frustrated at the fact that his now 15-year-old son was the same height as him and just as strong. The boy had grown like a beansprout in the last 4 years and Logan might have grumbled a bit at the fact that his boyfriend could still easily lean on him and call him short.

Speaking of his boyfriend, he was already at the game, likely waiting for them. Today was a bit rough going for Patton. He had accidentally let Roman hear his plans to propose to Logan and since then Roman had been co-conspiring with him to help him find the best way to ask him. It helps that they often traded kids for events, hanging out with the kid who most matched them personality wise. Patton much more enjoying going to parks for big parties with Roman where Logan preferred to stay home and do quiet activities with Virgil. The kids enjoyed that immensely, glad that they wouldn’t force their parents into an overwhelming or boring situation they preferred to stay away from. Logan was with Virgil at his soccer game, and he and Roman were running late. Of course, that was due to the panic Patton had sent himself into about the proposal. He was going to propose after dinner after Roman’s school musical. Now he was getting dragged out of the house.

Roman was carrying a bag bigger than his backpack over his shoulder. He was wearing skinny jeans and a long sleeve black shirt that said ‘could be gayer’ with a pink jacket that said ‘love is love’. Patton grinned at him, remembering when Roman told him and Logan that he was gay and promptly tossed a list in their lap and ran away. It was a list of about 5 different shirts and jackets he wanted. They had immediately gotten all of them for the kid, and the hoodies rarely left his back. His hair was messy, likely from him running his hands through it al day long. They got in the car and Roman looked over at Patton as he started driving.

“are you nervous?”

Patton took a quick glance at the boy and smiled.

“put your seatbelt on ro! What do you mean am I nervous?”

Roman clipped the belt on quickly then tilted his head at pat.

“are you nervous about proposing to dad? You seem nervous”

Patton's hands gripped ever so slightly tighter on the wheel, and yet Roman still noticed.

“…yeah. Yeah, I'm nervous Ro. It’s a big thing and I don’t want anything to go wrong.”

Roman nodded solemnly and turned his head forward again, seemingly dropping the subject, only to start it back suddenly five minutes later.

“you shouldn’t be you know?”

“what do you mean Roman?”

“you shouldn’t be nervous. Dad loves you a lot. He's always loved you a lot. You have the ring, and you’ll be there. That’s all he could ever ask for. You two are each other’s happily ever after. You're his prince charming. There's nothing for you to worry about. So, don’t freak out ok? There's absolutely no way he’d ever say no”

Patton looked at Roman in the rear-view mirror of the car and smiled. The boy was very good at words, something he got directly from his father. They both had a certain grasp of English that he could never understand. He constantly tripped and floundered when trying to get a point across, but Logan and Roman could quickly and easily articulate their feelings and phrase things just perfectly. It was one of the most amazing things about them. They were eloquent and blunt and fantastic where he and Virgil would speak simply and more metaphorically, not good at getting a point across in a straight forward fashion. He took one hand off of the wheel and set it on Roman’s leg, squeezing softly before moving his hand back to the wheel.

“thanks kiddo. That really helped. I'm glad that I have your help to get through this. Love you kiddo.”

He saw Roman smile big and toothy and he couldn’t help his smile widening at the look on his face. They pulled into the parking lot at the school shortly after, the two rushing up to the stands, searching around for Logan, which was fortunately easy enough this time around. They started towards him and Patton couldn’t help but notice the small calming things in the man he loved.

Logan was wearing jeans, he saw a lily stitched on the inside of the pocket, and smiled, fondly remembering when he had stitched the flower and the bumblebee onto matching jeans Logan and Roman had. Logan also wore a black v neck that read ‘I am literally correcting your grammar and figuratively dying on the inside’ and a simple light blue jacket that was much too big for him, clueing Patton in on the fact that Logan definitely stole that from his closet. His curly brown hair was thoroughly ruffled, and they were able to see him run his hand through his hair yet again. Patton called out to him and his heart fluttered as Logan’s head whipped towards them, dropping a few strands of hair into his face again. He smiled as Logan blew the hair out of his face. They sat next to him, Roman tackling his father in a hug, leaving Logan chuckling.

“long time no see, glad you could make it!”

This sent Patton and Roman into a fit of giggles. Patton looked down at the field and saw the game going on, easily spotting his son running with the ball towards the goal. Virgil's bright purple hair stuck out easily and matched the school colors perfectly. He also matched with Roman who also had school colored hair, his red instead of purple. Patton saw Virgil swerve around the opposing sides players, twisting around them skillfully before kicking straight into the goal over the goalkeeper’s head. Patton stood immediately, cheering loudly, and jumping along with many of the rest of the people on the stands, Roman and Logan included.

The game ends an hour later, Virgil's team quickly making a joke of the other team. Roman is the first to jump off the seats, running to get Virgil from the locker rooms. He dashes in, and sees Virgil right away, tackling him into a hug, babbling about how well he did. Virgil chuckled and pat him on the head.

“Ro I gotta change! Gimme five I’ll be right out ok? I'm not gonna let you be late for your musical bro.”

“ugh FINE!!! You gotta hurry though, padre has something for you!!!”

“my dad can wait until I'm decent!!!”

“BORING!!!”

Roman stood outside the changing rooms, spinning around and quietly rehearsing his moves and singing for the show tonight. He got a lead role and he was full of jitters and the slightest bit of stage fright. He was playing prince charming in into the woods and he was honestly pretty nervous. He was giving himself a pep talk when one of the boys walked out of the changing room. He turned quickly, thinking it was Virgil, but he stopped short seeing a boy who was about as tall as Virgil with long ginger hair that curled up around his face. He only had one eye open, a towel held to his head drying his damp hair that fell in ringlets around his face. He wasn’t the only one staring though, as the towel fell from his face and the boy gave him a look with his heterochromatic eyes. One green and one blue eye, both staring intently at Roman, Roman barely able to stare back. Then Roman heard the door open again, and he tore his gaze away with a faint blush on his cheeks. Virgil walked out while laughing with this other kid with curly black hair and sunglasses. Virgil took a glance at the two and smirked. Roman could already tell he was in for something.

“hey there Dmitri, I see you’ve met my brother.”

The blonde blinked and turned over to Virgil, nodding. He made a quick few signals with his hands that Roman could tell were sign language but couldn’t understand. Virgil's smirk widened.

“I dunno man you're a whole year older than him. Plus, you just met him, and did I mention he's my brother?”

More signs, followed by more laughter from Virgil, and a snicker from the other person.

“in that case, maybe you have a chance once you can talk around him. Though he's a talkative one, so maybe you won’t need it. As said in the little mermaid, don’t forget about body language!”

And then the cute bo-dmitri! And then Dmitri flipped Virgil off, leading to more laughing.

“either way, we gotta split Dee. See you and rem later, baby bros got a musical to kick ass in.”

Virgil wrapped rem? In a hug and then did a complex handshake with Dmitri before grabbing Roman’s hand and walking off with a peace sign thrown up to the sky.

Roman eventually swallows the frog in his throat and speaks his mind like he had meant to earlier.

“who was that? Why was he signing? Is he mute? Why are his eyes so pretty? Who was that other person?”

Virgil laughed heartily and gave Roman a soft look.

“let’s answer that from easiest to hardest. The blonde hetchrom was Dmitri, the edge lord was Remy, his twin brother and my best friend. No, Dmitri isn’t technically mute, he's selectively mute though. He can’t talk in stressful situations or situations he's uncomfortable in. he was in a stressful game, plus he's never met you before and he gay af. Also, his eyes are so pretty because you're gay af as well.”

Roman made some high-pitched offended noises. Virgil continued to smirk.

“no but seriously, if you understood sign, you would be… a fucking tomato man. He was not subtle. Stop looking good, I don’t want to have to murder my best friends’ brother.”

“shut uppppp!!!! That’s not trueeeeee!!!!!!”

“ha! Nice joke bro. it took all I had not to kick him in the shin for what he was saying. You're a poor innocent 15-year-old, too good for this world too pure. He's a 16-year-old nerd who watches too much anime. You could do better, but you know, your choice ro. He's a nerd but he's a good guy. If he pulls anything, I won’t hesitate to snap his neck for you.”

“VIRGIL!!!!! You can’t just SAY things like that!!! Also, padres gonna be mad about you swearing!”

“don’t tell dad I swore I won’t tell pops that you have a crush on a 16-year-old you met five minutes ago.”

“deal”

“come on we gotta get the auditorium before our star bee is late”

“I'm never gonna be free of the bees, am I?”

“bee free?”

“you're insufferable”

“and you use big words as clever ways to be mean, so I think we’re even”

“rude obnoxious arrogant loud mouthed-”

“hey, I know what those mean!!! I have a C in English not an F!!!”

“repugnant abhorrent loathsome!!!”

“we get it you hate me so much, I might as well not go see your musical I’ll only make you-”

“NO!!!! YOU GOTTA COME YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME VEE NOOOO!!!”

“calm down Ro, I'm teasing you. I wouldn’t think of missing your big day.”

The rest of the night is a blur for all of them. The show was phenomenal and Roman blew it out of the water. They went to dinner at a fancy sushi place and they were on their way home when Patton and Virgil had pulled over next to the park, they had all met at. Logan was… thoroughly confused to say the least. Virgil just smirked when Logan asked what was happening, telling him to just go with it and get out of the car. By the time Logan actually did, Roman and Patton had set up a star blanket on the ground and Patton was seated on it, fidgeting oddly. He was not expecting that, or Roman pushing him over there. Roman bounced, hugging both of them then running into the car with Virgil. Logan’s head tilted from confusion.

“Patton, what is happening?”

“um, surprise? Look though, look at the stars Logan!!!”

Logan looked up, and he was surprised at the number of stars he could see. He hadn’t been there at night, had never seen that at this time of night all the lights on the streets and in the houses were out, giving you the perfect view of the whole night sky. He leaned back, nearly forgetting that the kids were in the car and that he should be suspicious. He pointed up at a cluster of stars and started to rant about them. He had gotten affirmations from Patton that he was listening for a while, until he stopped. Logan looked over and he fell completely to the ground, feeling his heart pound suddenly at the sight. He scrambled to a sitting position and looked at Patton again, who was kneeling with a box in his hands with a wide and nervous smile on his face.

“Patton? What-what is going on?”

Patton's smile relaxed.

“Logan, I've known you for 13 years now. I've been your partner for 4. I've loved you for all of them. You always know the words to say to make me feel better. You always know exactly how to fix a problem I'm having, and I love you so much. I love you more than the air we breathe, or the stars that are laying above us. I would drop anything to stay by your side Logan, so darling, my love, my universe around me, will you marry me?”

Patton opened the box and Logan saw the ring, already attached to a simple chain. The ring was a simple silver band with a death star on the top that says ‘I know’. He laughed a bit, knowing the reference by heart. He nodded though, nodded furiously with a smile on his face.

“I will pat. I will I will”

Patton clipped the chain around Logan’s neck and held his face.

“I really wanna kiss you right now.”

“I do too Patton.”

They smiled and fell into a kiss. It was just as perfect and magical as their first kiss, and they held each other closely in the starlight, just enjoying the moment they were having together.

Of course, in the car, Virgil had videotaped the whole thing, and then started fake gagging.

“ewwwwww Roman our dads are kissing!!!”

“pfft, does that mean we’re gonna be brothers? You're right vee, ewwwwww”

“oh, shut it you little shit”

“listen, I'm gonna make a swear jar and you’ll have to pay me a dollar every time you swear.”

“no way. Maybe a quarter a curse.”

“that’s a deal then!!! Starting tomorrow though, cuz dads too happy”

“cool. Are they still kissing? It’s been like 5 minutes should we tell them?”

 The next week was filled with Logan declaring his love way more often than he ever would normally. And Roman earned 20 dollars from his new swear jar. He would usually just smirk at Virgil with his hand held out and would beg a penny for his thoughts. Roman thought it was genius. Virgil thought it was obnoxious. But a deal was a deal. Also, Dmitri and Remy had hung out with them more often. Unfortunately, Roman hadn’t quite picked up sign enough and Dmitri still didn’t speak around him. He was getting desperate to know what he was saying considering Virgil would go on about how much of a gay mess he is. He just wanted to be in on the joke ok???

They were settled around the dinner table and Remy and Dmitri were invited that night. Virgil had decided that they might as well have a slumber party and Patton and Logan had agreed so long as they didn’t keep anyone awake, and with them all knowing sign it was not hard for them to agree. They had already moved into the living room with bedding and game consoles and a few books and magazines. Roman was eating dinner quickly, hoping to get time to play his uke before his dads were heading to bed. It was 4 years old but still in just as good condition as when he first got it. He had learned I cant help falling in love with you the week after getting it, riptide the next, but he had since decided to find different songs that sounded good on the ukulele and he was in the process of learning ocean eyes by Billie Eilish and he was having a ton of fun with it. It wasn’t difficult, but he had never done a song that sounded so different from the original when played on uke and he loved it. He finished dinner and excused himself quickly running upstairs and pulling the rainbow instrument into his lap. He started strumming aimlessly, a few nice chords, before setting to the song. He pulled out the sheet music and placed it on the bed in front of him and began.

I've been watchin' you for some time Can't stop starin' at those ocean eyes Burning cities and napalm skies Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes Your ocean eyes No fair You really know how to make me cry When you give me those ocean eyes I'm scared I've never fallen from quite this high Fallin' into your ocean eyes Those ocean eyes

He was so focused and in his head, he didn’t notice Virgil Remy and Dmitri sneaking to his room to listen better. He also didn’t notice Dmitri was whispering to Virgil. He stopped the song and moved on to a mashup he had heard before.

Doo doo doo doo  doo doo doo doo doooo dooo doooooooo with a smile and a song life is just like a bright sunny day your cares fade away and your heart is young a dream is a wish your heart makes when you’re fast asleep in dreams you will lose your heart aches whatever you wish for you keep I know you I walked with you once upon a dream I know you the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam

He was glowing in happiness, Virgil grinned, proud of his little brother who was so utterly talented, and he nudged Dmitri with a cocky grin. Dmitri, whose face was aglow bright red in the dark lighting in the hall. He turned back to pay attention to Roman who was still singing along without a care.

I wanna go where the people go I wanna see wanna see em dancing roaming around on those, what is that word again feeeeet I want adventure in the great wide somewhere I want it more than I can tell a whole new world a hundred thousand things to see I’m like a shooting star I’ve come so far I can’t go back to where I used- have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned can you sing with all the voices of the mountain can you paint with all the colours of the wind no chance no way I won’t say I’m love you swoon you sigh why deny it uh oh it’s too cliché I won’t say I’m in- who is that girl I see staring straight back at me when will my reflection show who I am inside

They were all rather impressed at the trills and vibrato thrown into the song, and Dmitri was singing along quietly, adding a harmony along as he tried to get up the nerve to actually be heard. Remy was squeezing his hand for support.

and I’m almost there I’m almost there people gonna come here from everywhere and I’m almost there and at last I see the light and it’s like the fog has lifted  and at least I see the light and it’s like the sky is new I will ride I will fly chase the wind and touch the sky I will ride I will fly chase the wind and touch the sky

And finally, Dmitri raises his voice. Roman opens one of his eyes slightly, seeing Dmitri singing but choosing to leave it be, closing his eyes once again and letting himself melt into the song.

the snow glows white on the mountain tonight not a footprint to be seen a kingdom of isolation and it looks like I’m the queen let it go let it go can’t hold it back any more let it go let it go turn away and slam the door see the line where the sky meets the sea it calls me and no-one knows how far it goes If the wind in my sail and the sea stays behind me Someday I’ll know how far I’ll go

Roman grinned and opened his eyes to see Virgil with a cocky grin still stained on his face and Remy with a matching look, Dmitri’s eyes blown wide and an awestruck look.

“thank you for the harmony Dmitri! That sounded wonderful!!!”

He blanched and turned his head away revealing the dark blush going down his neck. Roman could just barely hear the response.

“thanks, I guess, you sounded good as well..”

“hey Ro, you wanna chill with us downstairs? We were going to start playing Mario kart and I think it would be hilarious to see you show these two nerds up.”

“oh! Um… sure! I can never say no to destroying people in Mario kart!”

 Within the hour Dmitri was opened up enough to laugh and talk loudly, occasionally cursing and getting upset as he had to pay the younger kid in the room. He eventually dropped a five-dollar bill in before he started a race because you know what Mario kart already made him angry, but now he was having his ass handed to him by a cute 15-year-old. He was gonna swear and he didn’t want to worry about how many times he did it. He still owed another dollar at the end. After that Roman raided the fridge and made nachos with Doritos for them all.

“bon Appetit gamers!”

“I still wish I was able to cook like you can ro.”

“vee its Doritos with cheese on them. It’s not difficult.”

“listen hush.”

They were messing around in the living room and they didn’t even notice how much time had passed. Roman finally checked the time as he hung upside down off of the couch, letting out a gasp when he saw it was 4 AM already. He nervously started playing his uke, singing old town road quickly as he played double speed. Dmitri’s head whipped around and he started laughing at the picture in front of him. A 15-year-old sitting upside down on a couch, legs dangling out of sight, and playing a 2-minute song in a minute. There was definitely something amusing seeing a small kid anxiously strumming at a ukulele like he was pulled out of the road to el dorado. Though he should have braced himself better before dying laughing as now he is laying on the ground giggling. Virgil's head was hanging over his with a knowing look and Dmitri pushed him away. He sat up again, shaking his head to fix his hair and now was the moment Roman really took after his father because damn he gay. Hopefully he's not as hopeless as his father at saying it though.

“holy crap you're pretty”

…welp. Obviously, he's got a different problem.

“wha?”

And he was running upstairs. He couldn’t look any of them in the eyes as he rushed to his room. He dashed into his room and sat behind the door, cradling his uke. He took a deep breath before getting up and putting his uke away and curling up in bed, constellations spinning around his head.

 He tried to hide in his room until they went home, but Patton demanded he have breakfast with everyone. Well, demand is a strong word, he actually just bribed him with bacon eggs in a basket, and who could honestly say no to that? So, he got dressed in his favorite jeans that matched one of his dads, a tank top, and his oversized pink BTS love yourself off the shoulder hoodie and headed downstairs. He took his normal spot at the table and fiddled with his sweater paws out of sight.

“did you guys have fun last night?”

Sometimes Roman hated how little his dad could read the mood. He nodded and out of the corner of his eye he saw Dmitri nod as well. Virgil and Remy recounted a bunch of the antics from the night, and he chuckled inwardly at the disgruntled groan that came from Dmitri when they talked about the swear jar. Patton had smiled at him afterwards. They ate and he helped clean up when everyone was finished. He was about to retreat again when Dmitri had tugged on his arm, silently asking to step outside. He took a deep breath and hesitantly followed.

Dmitri was wearing a contrasted stripe shirt, on side black and yellow and the other black and white, ripped jeans, a leather jacket, and a beanie. Jesus hold on to your gay man, stop staring!!! He had his hands in his pockets and his eyes were moving all over the place. Roman was about to ask what he wanted when… well, he kissed him. And you know, once his brain recovered from gay shock, he kissed him back, unfortunately that was long enough for Dee to pull away and try to run off while signing… probably apologies?

Roman’s hand shot out immediately, grabbing his hand and standing on his tip toes to kiss him again. He felt him relax and his arms wrap around his waist, and he let his hands wrap around his neck loosely. He doesn’t know how long they were standing there kissing before he heard pictures being taken and arguing. He backed out of the kiss, eyes fluttering open to see his brother and Remy with their phones out and Patton restraining Logan who looked confused furious and proud at the same time. His eyes widened and he pulled himself out of the hold he was in before rushing over to his dad to try to calm him down. Dee flipped off Virgil and Remy, still dazed, and Virgil cackled.

“flipping me off counts as two swears boy, hand over that cash mate!”

Roman turned his head over to look at Dmitri with an apologetic face as Logan began pulling him off inside. Dmitri nodded in his direction with a slight smile and a wink. Patton followed Logan, still trying to calm him down, and Virgil nodded towards the front door.

“I think it would be a good idea if you guys were out of the house by the time pops is done with Ro. Lets get you out of here.”

Taglist: @fivebyfive-finebyfive @tacohippy56900 @analogical-mess @crookedlyoptimisticdestiny @angels-and-dreams @fandomloverangel @asleepybisexual @starbucks-remy @idioticsky @ijustreallylovesanderssides @superwholocked-for-life @band-be-boss-blog @llamaly @logicality-trash @fiive-second-cookies @whats-going-on-kiddos @snowshoe-main-blog @007ardra @internetwhy @musikasworld @Sammy-is-obsessed

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my writing!!!

Thank you for reading I will see you later ladies lords and nonbinary royalty!!!

[chungledown-bimothy]

Music and the Mirror (and the chance to dance with you)

Hey look! I actually finished something! :D

AO3     Masterlist

Summary: It had been five years, and Virgil was finally ready to dance again. The last thing he expected was Roman and that goddamn tongue piercing.

Warnings: some swearing, sympathetic deceit, accidental misgendering, dysphoria. lmk if i missed anything!

Pairing(s): prinxiety, background remceit and logicality

Word Count: 4,739

Tag List:  @ren-allen​ @ccecode​ @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn​ @ilovemygaydad​ @bloodropsblog​ @funsizedgremlin​ @raygelkitty​ @roxiefox23​ @thomasthesandersengine​

If I don't do this now, I never will, and I'll regret it for the rest of my life. Virgil took a deep breath, staring at the cursor blinking in the empty search bar. After a few minutes and a significant amount of emotional effort, he searched for 'adult dance classes'. Almost immediately, the screen was full of dance studios offering classes, and he had to breathe through the knot of anxiety that formed from the sheer number of options. He scrolled past ballet (I couldn't do ballet back when I was in shape), hip hop (I'm not nearly confident enough for that), and tango (No way I'm getting that close to a stranger), but none of them felt right. It had been so long; if he made the wrong choice, it would destroy what little confidence he had, potentially stopping him from ever dancing again. That's a bit dramatic, the small, logical part of his brain insisted. Dancing is part of you; it's in your blood. You could never give it up forever. You're here now, after everything that happened. That voice, however, was drowned out by his anxiety. Until he saw it.

Beginner West Coast Swing! No experience or partner needed. 8-9pm Tuesdays. $18 drop-in, $45 all 3 weeks.

West Coast Swing. Perfect. Upbeat and energetic, but not too technically demanding at first, and half the fun is in the tension held in the space between partners. And it starts tomorrow, so there's no time to chicken out. He followed the website's registration process, signing up for all four weeks. It's only four hours over the course of the month, he figured. Even if it went horribly, he'd gotten through worse.

After registering, he quickly shut his laptop and went to dig out his old dance shoes. Hopefully they still fit; a lot has changed over the last five years. They did, just barely.

-

Tuesday

Virgil walked into the studio at 7:55, his heart pounding. Immediately, he was greeted by a very tall man, likely in his early thirties, with a clipboard in one hand.

"Hello, and welcome! I am Logan Sanders; I own the studio. Are you here for west coast swing?" Logan stuck his hand out.

"Uh, hi, nice to meet you. My name's Virgil." Virgil shook his hand. "Yeah, I registered online yesterday." Logan checked the clipboard, and looked back up at Virgil.

"Wonderful, I have you right here. Follow me, your class is going to be held in the Blue Room." Virgil followed him through a huge room with floor-to-ceiling mirrors and through a door off to the side. Silently, he thanked whatever deities that might be listening that the class wasn't in that room and prayed that the Blue Room would have fewer mirrors. Fortunately, it only had a few mirrors on the far wall; it was clear that they would rarely, if ever, use them. "Alright, here we are. Have fun, and please do not hesitate to let me know if there are any issues." Logan gave him a small smile and adjusted his glasses before practically gliding out of the room. That man did decades of ballet; I'd bet my life on it.

Virgil slunk around the fifteen or so people who were milling about on the dance floor waiting for the class to start. Once he got to a bench in the corner, he changed into his dance shoes and reluctantly took off his hoodie. Instead of joining his classmates on the floor; he took this opportunity to observe them. They were largely what he expected, most of them looked to be between twenty-five and thirty, with the exceptions of himself, at twenty-two, and a couple who were probably around sixty.

"Good evening! My name is Patton Sanders, and I'm your west coast swing teacher! Alright, let's line up; leads to my left, and follows to my right."

Virgil froze. He hadn't considered if he'd rather lead or follow. He felt the teacher's eyes on him, however, and had to make a decision. Something in his gut told him to follow, so he fell in line to Patton's right. He immediately noticed that there were more follows than leads, and briefly chastised himself for choosing wrong. Fortunately, Patton's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"I see a bunch of familiar faces tonight; thank you so much for coming back! Your focus this month should be on moving beyond the basics. Focus on your posture, your technique, and your styling." Patton looked at all of his students, giving them all a blinding smile. "New students, thank you for joining us! West Coast Swing is incredibly unique. Unlike most other ballroom dances, what really matters is the energy and elasticity between partners, and each partner is given far more independence than in other styles. But listen to me, getting ahead of myself," Patton giggled. "None of that matters if you don't know how to move your feet! Okay, let's start with the leads." Patton walked them through the basic step, giving Virgil a chance to assess his future partners. The dance snob he used to be scoffed; he was not impressed with anything that he was seeing, but some of them seemed to have potential. Reminding himself that he won't be good at this at first either, he focused on the leads' basic step and constructing the most likely follows' counterpart.

"Fantastic, now ladies, your basic is very similar," Virgil flinched. In the excitement of starting to dance again, he'd forgotten about his wide hips, and he didn't have a binder in the right size to exercise without potentially causing a lot of damage. Just dance, Virgil. Remember how it all fades away. Focus on the steps, so you can build a foundation strong enough that you will be able to leave everything but the music behind. Virgil did just that, quickly picking up the step.

"Awesome! Okay, let's partner up; I'll put on the music and come dance with y'all who don't have partners." Virgil was one of the two follows without a partner, and he stifled a laugh when "Madness" by Muse started playing through the speakers. It probably does seem kind of mad, doing this alone. Patton called out "5, 6, 7, 8!" and they all started moving. Virgil did his best alone, but it wasn't long until Patton took his hand and started leading. Virgil only then realized that his posture had been terrible. He straightened up and looked Patton in the eye, and he thought he saw approval there. They danced for a little bit longer before Patton gave him a thumbs-up and went to turn off the music.

"That looked really great, you guys. That's officially all the time we have, but I'll put some music on for a bit longer if any of you want to hang around and keep dancing!" Virgil wanted to stay for a while longer. It felt so good to be dancing again, to feel that powerful and confident, but he saw himself in the mirror and practically ran to put his hoodie back on and change his shoes so he could leave. When he got to the door, he hesitated and looked back, but he quickly turned back around and went home, deciding to not risk getting misgendered again and ruining his post-dance elation.

--

The next week, Virgil approached Patton after class, heart hammering in his chest.

"Uh, Patton? Can we talk for a minute?"

"Of course! Virgil, right? What's up?"

Virgil looked down, afraid of what he might see in his teacher's eyes. "My pronouns are he/him. I know I don't look it, but…." Virgil hesitated, not sure how to finish the thought, "yeah. He/him."

"Oh, my! Thanks for letting me know! I won't misgender you again." Surprised, Virgil looked up to see a smile on Patton's face. "By the way, what's your dance history, if you don't mind me asking? You clearly have a whole bunch." Virgil hoped his blush wasn't as strong as it felt.

"Um, it was pretty much all in high school. Dance classes for PE credit, danced in all of the musicals, and I took some jazz classes outside of school. Haven't danced since graduating, though." Clearly Patton read between the lines; his face softened, but it was with understanding, not pity, as Virgil had feared.

"Well, whatever happened back then, welcome back. You've got a lot of talent, and I'm excited to see where it takes you, if you choose to stick with it. See you next week, kiddo!" Virgil thanked him and left, head held high.

-

The following class passed without incident. Virgil learned and grew as a dancer immensely, and, when given the opportunity, he signed up for the next cycle, excited to learn more. Nothing could have prepared him for that next class.

--------

The class started completely normally. Virgil arrived, put on his new dance shoes, and waited for Patton to start the class. He was so wrapped up in mentally reviewing the patterns from the previous weeks, he didn't notice that there were new students until Patton had them partner up and someone took his hand.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that Virgil Raine is very, very gay. He had had his fair share of Gay Panic moments, but none of them compared to what happened in Virgil's head when he made eye contact with the stranger holding his hand. He was shorter than Virgil, with curly black hair and eyes like brown enstatite that sparkled with confidence.

The stranger gave him a blinding smile. "Pleasure to meet you; I'm Roman."

"V- Virgil." He was amazed that his voice worked, and he thanked every deity he could think of that Patton cut him off, giving the class a pattern and counting them off.

Virgil stood tall, more confident in his abilities to dance than to talk to Roman, and then they started moving. Virgil's biggest struggle in west coast swing was the concept of connection, of creating and maintaining the elasticity that is a fundamental part of the dance. With Roman, however, the connection was instant and perfect. As Roman led him through a left-side pass into a whip, he felt alive in ways he hadn't in years, especially since Patton hadn't said anything about doing a whip. He knew it was cliche as hell, but he could have sworn that the rest of the world stopped existing- for those short minutes, all that existed was him, Roman, and the music.

All too soon, however, the music stopped, and the spell was broken. Virgil stepped back, painfully aware of how much he was blushing.

"Looking good, y'all! Leads, rotate, and let's do it again!"

Roman winked. "Thanks for the dance, stormcloud," he said before turning and walking down the line, not giving Virgil a chance to respond. Stunned, Virgil took his new partner's hand and went through the pattern by rote, too distracted to pay attention to connection or styling.

The rest of the class passed in a similar fashion- Virgil trying to keep his cool and not look at Roman too much. They were partnered once more before class ended. Neither of them said anything, but the connection and energy was even more intense, if anything, and Roman's flamboyant styling left Virgil reeling. As soon as class ended, he put his headphones on, turned his music up, changed his shoes, and left. He felt a pair of eyes on him as he left the studio. He wasn't sure whether or not he wanted that feeling to be correct.

Once he was safely out of the building, he texted his best friend, Declan.

[Emo]: askfkaldjsl there's a really cute guy in my west coast swing class, and he can Dance. By far the best dancer in the class who isn't the teacher. Extra as hell, based on two interactions. I'm literally too gay to function help

[Snek]: Gay panic is so pure

[Snek]: Fuck YEAH dude

[Emo]: Helpful as always, D.

[Snek]: You know I just call it like it is. So are you gonna make a move, or just write another fanfic that basically is just a self-insert about what could have been if you weren't a coward?

[Emo]: Hey, I only did that ONCE, and I didn't even finish it, let alone post it.

[Snek]: *raises an eyebrow* are you sure about that?

[Emo]: Okay, twice, and yeah I posted that second one. But it wasn't even really a fic, just a list of ideas that developed something like a plot.

[Snek]: So….? What are you gonna do about this unnamed hottie?

[Emo]: Play it by ear. Two more weeks of class gives me two more weeks to gather information.

[Snek]: No comment on not knowing his name?

[Emo]: Damn i was hoping that'd slide by. It's Roman.

[Snek]: Good strong name. Maybe I'll show up and take a shot at him

[Emo]: *hiss* Fuck off he's mine. Besides, you have someone. Someone you still refUSE TO TELL ME ABOUT, BITCH

[Snek]: Love you too <3

Virgil closed his phone and drove home, in desperate need of a shower and a good night's sleep.

--

Virgil walked into the studio, head low with his hood up and headphones playing louder than was safe for him or the electronics, but he didn't care. What mattered was quieting the voice in his head that had been saying 'Why would he look twice at you? You're a mediocre dancer at best, and you know he's misgendering you in his head. You know from experience how few people want to date trans guys. Wrong parts for gay guys, wrong gender for straight guys. Putting yourself out there would be a disaster' for the last week. I'm here to dance, he reminded himself, not to flirt.

He quickly got to the Blue Room and changed his shoes, not bothering to take off his hoodie or headphones until the last possible minute- nothing calmed his nerves like Gerard Way not being okay either. When the time came, he reluctantly shed his armor and took his place in the line of follows.

Class began as normal; a brief review of previous lessons and a few warm-up patterns. Virgil kept his attention on Patton or his current partner. While this strategy kept his eyes and mind (mostly) off of Roman, it meant that he was entirely unprepared when it was their turn to dance together.

"Virgil, right?" Roman asked, eyes still infuriatingly bright.

"Yep. What's up, Roman?" Virgil smirked, surprising even himself. Patton counted them off, but that didn't stop Roman from responding as they went through the series.

"Ah, you can speak! I'm doing fabulously. And you?"

"Fine. Just trying to learn, princey." To Virgil's surprise, Roman was silent for the rest of the dance, and didn't say anything before moving to his next partner, either. Shit. Good job, Virgil. Why did you even call him that? Figuring there wasn't really anything he could do about it, Virgil tried to put it out of his mind and keep focusing on Patton's lesson.

As in the previous class, he danced with Roman one more time, right at the end. The pattern was complex, and the music was fast, so there wasn't any opportunity to talk until after the music stopped and Patton dismissed the class.

"Thanks for the dances, Roman. You're a great dancer." He turned to leave, not wanting to stick around for small talk.

"Wait, Virgil!" He turned around to see a look on Roman's face that he couldn't quite figure out. "Why'd you call me 'princey'? How did you know?"

Virgil furrowed his brow, confused. "Know what? Dunno where the nickname came from, you just kinda carry yourself like you think you're royalty or something."

"You really didn't know that my last name is Prince?" Roman looked up at him, incredulous.

"I swear I didn't. While we're on the topic of nicknames, why did you call me 'stormcloud' last week?" Virgil was surprised to see Roman look down and fidget with the hem of his shirt.

"Your hoodie. It has that purple stormcloud on it. And your energy isn't exactly sunshine and rainbows."

Virgil chucked. "I didn't think you were that observant. See you next week, princey." Virgil smirked.

"Looking forward to it," Roman responded. Well, Virgil thought that's what he said. His brain short-circuited when Roman said 'looking' and revealed a silver stud in the middle of his tongue.

Completely unable to speak, Virgil turned and hurried to his stuff, shoving his headphones in his ears and changing his shoes as fast as possible. He didn't even take the time to put his hoodie back on before practically running out of the studio to his car.

[Emo]: 911 HE HAS A FUCKING TONGUE PIERCING I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW I WAS INTO THAT

[Snek]: Who, roman? Oh shit. I distinctly remember you telling me once that you definitely *aren't* into tongue piercings. Damn you are SO WHIPPED. This guy must be a fuckin Adonis

[Emo]: I'm not whipped. He just really is that hot. And sassy. And observant. And funny.

[Snek]: …

[Emo]: ah, fuck. I really am whipped. But I think it might not be one-sided. You know how terrible I am at flirting?

[Snek]: Whatever could you possibly mean? Being a sarcastic ass is peak flirting. *Everyone* knows that.

[Emo]: No need to be a bitch about it. Anyway, I unintentionally did a whole bunch of it, and he gave it right back. Maybe even better than I did?

[Snek]: Boy that's your fuckin soulmate. If you really pulled a You as a first conversation and didn't scare him off, hold the fuck on to him

[Emo]: you know I hate it when you do that. And yeah, I don't plan on letting him go. Next week is the last week of the class. I'll ask him out after. That way, if he rejects me, we never see each other again. No harm, no foul.

[Snek]: Solid plan. I gotta go- date night. Talk later?

[Emo]: You gotta tell me who this mystery person is. It's been *months*, and I still don't know anything about them.

[Snek]: About whomst? Significant other? I don't know her.

Rolling his eyes at his enigmatic friend, Virgil drove home.

----

The next week, unlike previous weeks, he walked into the studio, head held high, not wearing headphones. He had a plan and the confidence of a man with nothing to lose.

Virgil danced through the class better than he ever had before. As usual, he was partnered with Roman a few times, but aside from a brief greeting, neither of them said anything, but Virgil thought he felt a silent conversation between them as they danced- a meeting of two souls consumed by a love of dance.

Before he knew it, class was over. He took a moment to collect his thoughts under the guise of changing his shoes before looking around to find Roman. When he did, his heart stopped. Roman was in the middle of the dance floor, gliding effortlessly through what appeared to be an argentine tango. His partner was about Virgil's height, with sharp, high cheekbones and a flawless jawline. He couldn't see their eyes; they were hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses. What really made Virgil's stomach knot was the fact that their styling was likely in violation of public indecency laws- the two of them clearly knew each other intimately. Blinking away tears, Virgil grabbed his things and ran to his car. He went to text Declan and saw that he already had a message from him.

[Snek]: So how'd it go, loverboy? When's the date?

[Emo]: There won't be a date. He's with someone. A gorgeous someone. I didn't know an argentine tango could look *that* much like sex on the dance floor.

[Snek]: Oh shit, Virge, I'm so sorry. Do you want me to kill that guy for you? Because it sounds like he sucks, and I will totally kill him for you.

[Emo]: thanks, but no. I can't fucking breathe, D. Why the fuck do I always do this? Why can't I feel things a normal amount? Why do I let my heart run away like this?

[Snek]: I could give you a smartass answer about your childhood traumas, but the bottom line is that it's because you are a deeply good and caring person. The fact that you choose to see the best in people despite everything you've been through is incredible, Virgil. Now, get your cute butt home. I'll meet you there with ice cream, and we're gonna watch Nightmare Before Christmas and talk it out, okay?

[Emo]: Give me half an hour to get home and showered. Love you <3

Ten minutes later, Virgil unlocked his front door and turned on the light.

"Well helloooo, Virgil," a familiar voice drawled.

Virgil let out a scream that neither man knew he was capable of. "Declan you sack of shit I'm going to fucking murder you. My internal organs have had enough stress today, thank you very fucking much. I said half an hour."

"I know you did, but I also know you. Right now, you're spiraling into self-loathing, and the easiest outlet for that is dysphoria. I would be a terrible friend if I let you suffer through that alone."

"I thought we agreed that you weren't gonna psychoanalyze me." Virgil cocked an eyebrow, his heart rate returning to almost normal. "Are you offering to shower with me?"

"It's not psychoanalysis. It's just knowing my best friend and his self-destructive tendencies. And no, I'm not. I'm just here for emotional support. We both know that that smart brain of yours likes to tell you all sorts of lies, and-"

"And you're a human polygraph. I got it. Thanks, Dec. I'll be back out as soon as possible. Make yourself at home- you know where everything is." Virgil turned and walked towards the bathroom.

"Easy on the hair product- it your hair is full of goop, it'll fuck my eczema up, so I won't cuddle you!" Declan called out after him. Virgil flipped him off, but they both knew that he would not only eschew hair products but also use the eczema-friendly body wash they both pretended he hadn't bought just so they could cuddle more comfortably for Declan.

Fifteen minutes later, Virgil returned to the living room. He expected Declan to make him talk through the storm that was going on in his head, but instead they watched movies and joked around all night. The only talk of dancing that night was Virgil confirming that he would not give it up for anything, let alone some guy, no matter how cute.

--

Virgil had been so wrapped up in thoughts of Roman, he missed why the following week's class was a one-day workshop instead of a new cycle, but he figured it didn't really matter. He was there to dance, logistical semantics be damned.

His resolution to stick with the classes no matter what was immediately tested when he entered the ballroom and saw Roman on the floor dancing with the same man from the previous week. At least it's west coast swing this time, Virgil mused as he changed his shoes and tried not to stare. Fortunately, it wasn't long before Patton started the class.

Unfortunately, it also wasn't long before Virgil and Roman were partners.

"Hello again, stormcloud!" Roman said as he began leading Virgil through the pattern.

Virgil nodded curtly. "Roman."

"What's with the attitude, Edgar Allen Woe?" Virgil told himself he was imagining the hurt in Roman's voice.

"We're here to dance, not chit-chat." Roman tried to lead Virgil through a turn, but he tripped over his own feet. Because Virgil was in the middle of that turn, he was thrown off balance as well. In an instant, both men were on the floor, Roman on top of Virgil.

"Well hello there," Roman laughed.

"Get. Off. Now." Virgil shoved Roman off of him and scrambled back to his feet, praying that his blush wasn't as scarlet as it felt. The blush was, of course, completely from the embarrassment of falling in front of the class and had nothing to do with being underneath Roman.

Patton, fully aware of the tension between the two dancers as well as Virgil's shyness, quickly grabbed the class' attention and moved on with the lesson. Patton showed mercy on Virgil and prolonged the time between partner rotations to keep him from having to dance with Roman again. I hope those kiddos work out whatever's going on between them, but they can't do it during my class time.

For the rest of the hour, Virgil kept his head down unless absolutely necessary and tried to learn as much as possible, but he just couldn't focus. Remembering how close Roman was with flecks of gold in his eyes and clearly as muscular as Virgil had imagined had him grateful for the first and only time that he wasn't assigned male at birth- the situation would have been far more awkward than it already was if there was even the slightest possibility of a boner to deal with.

Eventually, the class ended, and Virgil hurried out of the studio as per usual. This time, however, he was followed. He was barely out of the studio when Roman called after him.

"Virgil! Wait! Please!"

Virgil turned to face him, anxiety about this conversation manifesting in anger. "What do you want, Roman?"

"A date with you." Roman's shoulders dropped, and he suddenly seemed very interested in his shoes.

"W- what?" Roman stood tall and looked Virgil in the eye.

"Will you go out with me? I know you felt what I did when we danced. Before tonight, I mean. Please, go out with me, let's give that energy a shot off of the dance floor." Virgil's eyes flashed with hope, want, and caution.

"What about your boyfriend?" Virgil spat.

"What are you talking about? What boyfriend?"

"I'm not an idiot, Roman. Tall, sunglasses, dances with you with a chemistry I've never seen before? WHAT?" Virgil snapped, when Roman started laughing.

"That, Virgil, is Remy. My best friend. My best friend who agreed to pick me up last time and come with me today to help me show off for you. We've been dancing together since we were eight; of course we have damn good chemistry. But that connection is nothing to what I felt when we danced that first time. We have something special, Virgil. Please, tell me you felt it too." Virgil stepped forward, closing the gap between them.

"I- I'm not good with words," he whispered, gently tilting Roman's head up and leaning down so that their lips were almost touching. "Yes, I felt it too." Virgil searched his face, looking for discomfort. "Can I kiss you, Roman?"

Instead of responding, Roman lifted onto the balls of his feet and pressed his lips to Virgil's. After a split second of shock, Virgil deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around Roman's torso and lifted him to his height. He quickly put him down, however, when they heard a wolf-whistle and a "WHOOP!".

Embarrassed, Virgil and Roman looked to see Remy and Declan standing at the door of the studio, smiling and laughing.

"I told you not to sweat it, girl. I couldn't tell you how bad my boy has it for yours, because he made me promise not to tell anyone, but look at that." Remy winked at Declan.

"Yes, and this totally wouldn't have been easier if we just told them how the other felt, like I definitely didn't suggest weeks ago." Declan rolled his eyes.

Virgil looked at the two of them suspiciously. "You two know each other?"

"Obviously, babe. Who do you think D's been seeing all these months?"

Virgil turned to Roman. "Did you know about this?"

"I mean, I knew Remy was seeing Declan, but I had no idea he was your friend. You know what this means though, right?"

"What does it mean?" Virgil asked, apprehensive.

"The most epic double dates of all time!" Roman punctuated his proclamation with a flourish. Virgil, Declan, and Remy all let out a groan.

The four men swapped numbers as needed and parted ways with promises to see each other again soon.