#{prescott}

19 Brave Firefighters perished on this day 12 years ago defending Yarnell, Arizona. Their spirit and grit live on. I've been to their graves numerous times. RiP Granite Mountain Hot Shots. June 30, 2013.

Nathan Prescott X Reader

Summary: A drunk Nathan asks the reader to come over to his room.

Word count: 1.3K

Warning: Usage of alcohol, drunk Nathan

There were two types of nights for me: The first one being the nights where I would get back to my dorm after an intense hookup with Nathan Prescott and then there are the nights where I would just lay in my bed and watch Golden Girls. Today was the latter. I was just chilling out when I suddenly got a text message. It was already pretty late so I was wondering who could possibly want something from me at such a time but when I checked my phone it didn’t came as a big surprise: Nathan, of course.

He had always been the complete opposite of me: popular, rich and mostly known for drugs, alcohol and being a rebellious teenager. I, on the other hand, was just a shy, introvert and nerdy girl. It was about three months prior that Nathan and I worked on a class project together when things quickly took a weird turn, resulting in us meeting for quick hookups a few times per week. We started talking more and even became good friends at some point. Knowing what Nathan probably wanted now I opened the message and my suspicions were quickly confirmed.

“Can u come 2 my room?”

I was already snuggled up in my bed and I actually didn’t want to get up again but I kept receiving begging messages from Nathan so after a while I wanted to check if he was okay. My guess was that he was feeling needy because he was drunk, it had happened before, and I was partially right – he really was drunk. But instead of finding him on his bed like usual, he was he was walking around his room. When he saw me he happily approached me and gave me a big hug, almost crushing me with the strength of it.

“Why did you ask me to come over?” I asked him after we separated again.

“Because I wanna try something.” He simply answered, making me curious.

“What do you wanna try?”

“Kissing but without having sex afterwards.”

“So you made me leave my cozy, warm bed and walk all the way over here for a kiss?”

“Pretty much, yes.” Nathan laughed.

I didn’t know if I was annoyed or if I thought it was cute. Knowing he was absolutely drunk I decided it was cute that he thought of me in that state. But then I saw him almost falling over so I decided he had to go to bed.

“Nate, you’re drunk. Let’s put you to bed, hm?”

That made him all whiny “Nooooooo. I don’t wanna go to bed. I wanna kiss you.”

I laughed at how adorable his pouting was but it didn’t matter. He was too drunk to know what he needs. I put him in his bed after helping him take his jacket off. Then I covered him with his blanket and put a bucket next to his bed.

“Sleep well, Nate.” I whisper, ready to leave. “Text me if you need anything.”

“Don’t go. Please…” He almost sounded desperate. “Please… one kiss. Just one.”

I couldn’t resist him. I always had a little crush on him and this was just too tempting so I did what seemed right: I gave in. I walked back over to his bed and gave his lips a quick peck.

“One more. Just one more, please…”

I should have know it. However he was just too cute in that moment so I had to give in and give him one more little peck. Just one couldn’t hurt anyone, right?

“One more. We can’t leave it at two. We have to make it three.”

“One more. But only one, okay? Then you really need to sleep, Prescott.” I sighed.

Nathan nodded happily so I leaned in again and pecked his lips for the third time. Then I kissed his forehead and a while later I finally left his room.

----------

It was morning now. I woke up well-rested and checked my phone to see if Nathan needed anything or if anyone else texted me. I did get a text from my mother but it was only the regular “Have a nice Sunday”- text.

What was strange was that Nathan didn’t bother texting me at all. Usually he would at least text me when he woke up to let me know he was fine but not today. So I got ready to go and did the only reasonable thing: I walked up to his dorm and checked on him.

When I entered I saw that he was still sleeping. ‘Of course’ I thought. ‘This makes sense. Why did I get so worried?’ I sat down on the couch and played with my phone, waiting for him to finally wake up. It took about thirty more minutes until he stirred and slowly opened his eyes. I gave him a moment to adjust to the light in his room, although it wasn’t much due to his heavy curtains I knew how sensitive his eyes were.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” I giggle a little, making Nathan groan. “How bad is the hangover?”

Nathan only groaned in response which was enough to answer the question.

“Want me to bring you my ‘special mixture’ to help the hangover?”

I made that mixture for him so many times already. Nathan nodded and put a pillow over his head, trying to cover his eyes which made me giggle. Then I left the room and came back a short while later with a glass of what I liked to call ‘hell juice’. It smelled absolutely awful and tasted even worse but it did help.

Nathan was sitting up in his bed and I sat beside him and gave him the glass. I know how much he hated this but it was his fault for needing it. Also, it was fun for me to watch him struggle as he drank it. He knew better than to complain so he quickly swallowed all of it down and contorted his face in disgust.

“How drunk was I?” He said quietly.

I told him the whole story about how I had to come over and he blushed. This was rare, I have never seen Nathan blush before.

“So I told you to come over because I wanted a small kiss?”

“Not only one.” I explained. “After the first one you wanted a second one. And a third one. And then you asked me for other things that I respectfully declined because you were too drunk.”

I couldn’t really read his expression. In one way he seemed to be a little shy about what he asked for last night but at the same time he just smirked and seemed to know that if he wasn’t so drunk he would have gotten his way.

“Well…” He started. “Now that I’m feeling better, my request still stands.”

Damn him. Damn his smirk, damn his charm. I couldn’t believe how easily he got me to be putty in his hands. How could I possibly say no to him like that? Safe to say that I did not say no. In fact we spend most of the day in his bed. In the evening we were so exhausted that he let me stay in his bed for the night. This was the first real time we cuddled, no rush, no hurry, just us. He was pressing light kisses on my neck as I heard him whisper to me quietly.

ʟɪɴᴋꜱ ↪ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ↪ ʟɪꜰᴇ ɪꜱ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ↪ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ

ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏꜱ ↪ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.6ᴋ ↪ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɴᴀᴛʜᴀɴ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴄᴏᴛᴛ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ↪ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ʙᴜʟʟʏɪɴɢ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ꜱᴛʀɪᴄᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛꜱ

English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistake and if you can help me improve it, I will greatly appreciate it. I hope you enjoy it :D

ㅤㅤNathan Prescott didn't know silence; even the term was foreign to him because he had never experienced it firsthand, unlike the people he had always been involved with.

ㅤㅤThe teenager had watched his life flash before his eyes as if he were a minor character, as if he had never had a say in the choices that should have been his from the start, choices that had profoundly shaped his future, the kind of person he was now, and the kind he would become as the years passed, if he remained in Arcadia Bay by then. While the rest of the world, more specifically his father, paved the way for him to become the best version of what a Prescott could and should be, Nathan only longed to choose what to do with his life, what to dedicate himself to, even what socks he could wear on Thursdays instead of using that absurd rubric his mother had insisted he use to maintain the perfect image his family had to project to the world. The status forged and initiated by his ancestors had meant that the young man's entire trajectory had been written from the moment his gender was revealed when his mother was pregnant with him.

ㅤㅤIf he had been a girl, as had been the case with his sister Kristine, Nathan was sure that everything would have been very different in too many ways.

ㅤㅤPerhaps his father wouldn't have put so much pressure on him from childhood if the Prescott family legacy hadn't been placed on his shoulders from the moment he was born. Perhaps he would have had the opportunity to socialize with other children his age instead of being forced to wear suits and ties to his parents' business meetings; perhaps he would have learned to trust others much earlier if he had had the chance to have a friend without his parents' influence and his family's wealth causing many to approach him for the perceived benefits of having a relationship with him.

ㅤㅤAnd he certainly wouldn't have been the target of ridicule from other students who considered him inferior because of his age, his last name, and his frail appearance.

ㅤㅤAt that moment, when he decided to be a little brave to face the intense day ahead, any feeling of courage vanished the moment he encountered the haughty and overbearing figure of Drew North. He believed that stealth was the best option to avoid being noticed, but the unparalleled gaze and anger of that football player from the Blackwell Academy team caused his plan—which consisted of spending a relatively quiet morning before heading to class—to vanish in a matter of seconds. He was forced to retreat the moment he saw that big man move away from his group of friends and approach him like a raging bull.

ㅤㅤNathan didn't think he'd done anything wrong to provoke the teenager's anger, but he was aware that not all the football players were happy that Sean Prescott's son—the same Sean Prescott who had left a hundred people jobless by closing the renowned fish company in the coastal town—had the opportunity to join the team when he hadn't earned any of the spots.

ㅤㅤ"Will you just stay still for once?"

ㅤㅤThe older teenager's deep, shrill voice made the younger one look over his shoulder to make sure he was in serious danger. A danger determined by a silly stone bordering the fountain in front of the academy's main building, in the middle of the small garden divided by walkways for the students to walk through.

ㅤㅤThat flash, first blue and then red, caused your attention to be quickly drawn to the pair of teenagers whom anyone on campus would recognise from a mile away. The book you were holding, the one you'd almost forgotten you were reading because you'd been distracted by a couple of little birds fighting over crumbs of some sandwich someone had dropped, suddenly became as uninteresting as chemistry class, causing your eyes to shift to the two figures who seemed to be having an altercation that no one wanted to get involved in; not even Chloe Price herself, who had walked right past them, had bothered to stop and pay attention to what was about to inevitably happen.

ㅤㅤ"What's that got there, Twitch?"

ㅤㅤDrew's question was malicious, especially because of the insult directed at the other boy. You weren't even sure what he meant by what had caught his attention until you noticed him bend down to pick up a album lying on the floor, the one Nathan had clutched to his chest as if it were his most precious treasure, something he was trying to protect at all costs.

ㅤㅤ"Don't call me that!"

ㅤㅤNathan's complaint went unnoticed by the dark-haired boy. You, on the other hand, along with a few other students who happened to be passing by, watched the interaction closely.

ㅤㅤ"Wow, wow. This is pretty messed up, Prescott," Drew mocked when he dared to open the younger boy's album, examining the photographs that were neatly arranged on its pages as if it were a collage or a photo exhibit.

ㅤㅤNathan, with remarkable speed, got up from the ground, wiping the slightly scraped palms of his hands from the fall against the fabric of his dark jeans before approaching the bully who had chased him for a long distance to the entrance of the main building.

ㅤㅤ"It's not yours," Nathan said apprehensively, approaching the older man to retrieve his album after making sure he had already looked at its contents. "Give it back!"

ㅤㅤ"I can't stand that you're on the team now," Drew muttered through gritted teeth, as if spitting venom through his words, looking at him with an intensity that could have intimidated anyone. "You're a loser."

ㅤㅤNathan's frown deepened; it was inevitable given the situation. Even though he was ready to reach for his album at a moment when he thought it was possible to retrieve it, a hand smaller than his own appeared in his field of vision. Before he had a chance to react to the bully, that hand grabbed the thug's ear tightly, pulling it down so that he bent slightly under the painful blow, causing a soft yelp to escape his lips and his body to slump to his right side, where you stood calmly observing the scene.

ㅤㅤ"Can I ask what you're doing?!"

ㅤㅤDrew's voice was louder and more pained than ever, which surprised the brunette, as he'd never heard him speak like that. His blue eyes lingered on your figure, which, although absurdly small compared to the football player, seemed to possess far more power and strength than that bully.

ㅤㅤ"I'm scolding you, like I suppose your mother should do from time to time, so you don't act so cocky," you retorted with mild severity, even though you weren't old enough to be taken very seriously. "Can I ask what you're doing, taking a classmate's album?"

ㅤㅤ"Don't mess with me," the older boy muttered, shrinking back to try and lessen the pain of the ear-pull. His dark eyes, almost as black as coal with rage and pain, fixed on the brunette's figure. "Now you have a bodyguard? Don't you know how to defend yourself, Prescott? That a little girl has to come and help you out?"

ㅤㅤAt the thug's question, your grip tightened slightly, and the subsequent pull nearly brought Drew to his knees in pain; his suggestion didn't sit well with you, that much was clear.

ㅤㅤ"You could calm down a bit, honestly. Taking that attitude off wouldn't hurt," you said gently, lowering your head to look at the thug before turning your gaze to Nathan, who took a small step back as if expecting you to reach out and grab his ear, doing the same thing you did to Drew.

ㅤㅤBut then you noticed again the album the soccer player had dropped sometime after you arrived. Afraid Drew would catch it, Nathan ducked quickly enough to pick it up before taking a few steps back to put some distance between himself and the other boy. He wasn't about to get into a fight with a teenager who was a head taller than him, especially one as imposing as he was, with his muscles and broad build.

ㅤㅤ"Are you okay?"

ㅤㅤYour question brought a look of surprise to Prescott's face. Although he could definitely have responded with weariness and annoyance, given his intolerant attitude towards others due to his inflated pride, at that moment, he could only nod his head as he wrapped his hands and arms around the album he had recovered. Inside, the images he hoped to present to his photography teacher were neatly arranged according to the theme by which he had grouped them. The thought of losing them due to a careless move by Drew was a possibility that would have devastated him; he wouldn't have been able to recover them for anything in the world.

ㅤㅤYour smile at his response was what surprised him most.

ㅤㅤHe didn't hear what other words you exchanged with Drew, though he was sure they weren't threats, given how calm and patient you'd been in dealing with such a delicate matter related to his harassment, even if your actions had spoken volumes. He was so engrossed in that perfect memory of your smile that he wondered for a moment if a rosy hue, the same colour as your lips, had suddenly crept into the black and white world he'd lived in his entire life. You hadn't shown fear when confronting someone who could have easily crushed you with a single blow; instead, you'd used that strange ability you seemed to possess—to be invisible—to help him.

ㅤㅤNathan watched as Drew retreated like a dog scolded by its owner, one hand covering his ear, which had turned pink from your grip. He was left completely alone with you, while the rest of the students who had paused to observe the fight and subsequent scolding resumed their conversations and made their way to their respective classes or to meet up with other groups of students to discuss what they had witnessed.

ㅤㅤ"Your album is okay, right?"

ㅤㅤPrescott seemed to snap out of it when he realised you were looking at him with those enormous eyes of yours, staring with such curiosity. He noticed you tilting your head slightly to better hear his reply.

ㅤㅤ“Yes,” he affirmed promptly, shifting his blue eyes to Drew, who had already covered the remaining distance to rejoin his group of friends, trying to look as intimidating as ever.

ㅤㅤAt his action, you couldn't help but turn your head toward where the older boy had fled, a gentle smile spreading across your face. You knew he probably wouldn't bother anyone else for the rest of the day and week. Considering that a teenager almost four years younger than him had stood up to him and treated him like a little kid, you hoped he'd calm down for a while.

ㅤㅤ“He won't bother you. Football players are like that, they always try to be-”

ㅤㅤ“Why did you defend me?”

ㅤㅤNathan's question pulled you from your own monologue, causing you to glance at him and then turn your head toward him. His frown, not as pronounced as it had been when Drew had taken the album, caught your attention. Prescott wasn't angry—when he was, it was truly evident in the vein that popped out on his forehead—but rather confused; he didn't understand why someone would genuinely step forward to defend him, not when he was a Prescott, and everything he got was thanks to the money his father gave to certain people.

ㅤㅤ"Because it's the right thing to do," you replied, shrugging as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, though it still made an even bigger impact on the boy. "Don't look at me like that, it's not a big deal."

ㅤㅤBut, for Nathan, it was.

ㅤㅤIn a world where he had learned to be alone, to do what others asked of him, the fact that someone had acted not to get something from him but to protect him became something historic. Something strange and noteworthy for him, something that certainly didn't exist in his world of fake smiles and under-the-table payments.

ㅤㅤ"Your hands are scraped, aren't they? You must have hurt yourself falling," you continued before taking a couple of steps toward the stairs that led to the main building, stopping to turn and look at him. "I can walk you to the infirmary if you want. Even if it's just a minor scrape, I'm sure the sting is uncomfortable."

ㅤㅤYour offer, like you, surprised him once again.

ㅤㅤEven if he didn't understand why anyone would want to help him, even if the possibility that someone had offered him a helping hand to face the bully who had been tormenting him throughout the school year didn't even cross his mind, the sight of your smile again, so warm and kind, so different from the ones he usually received from the teachers or his father's subordinates, caused his body, for the first time, to choose the path it wanted to take; his father hadn't paid you to defend him, it had been your doing.