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theladyofdeath · 3 years

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Tempting the Fates {Chapter 2}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

A/N: Surprise chapter - happy Saturday!

Word Count: 2792

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Hera

- Queen of the gods and the goddess of marriage and family

Aelin’s eyes fluttered open and the sight of Rowan beside her nearly took her breath away. He was still handsome, even with his hair a mess and the soft, purple spot on the base of his neck, just above his collarbone.

She had put that spot there.

And had enjoyed every second of it.

Memories from the night before flashed through her mind, and even she found her cheeks turning pink. Her hands on his body, and his on hers, in the most private of places. The taste of his mouth was mesmerizing, and Aelin longed for it, again.

As if he could feel her gaze on him, Rowan began to stir and his eyes opened. He turned to look at her and the smile on his face was enough to make her toes curl.

Rolling over, he hovered over her before brushing his lips against hers. “Good morning.”

Aelin’s fingers danced along his ribs as she breathed, “Morning.”

“I was hoping you’d still be here.” His lips left hers and trailed from her jaw down her throat. “I wasn’t sure how early you’d leave.”

She knew it was at least before six, since that was when he’d said he was setting an alarm for, but aside from that she had no clue. But she would have been insane to sneak out of this man’s bed.

However, if she kept letting him do what he was doing, she was likely to say screw the eight am class and stay in bed with him all day. She thought he might be inclined to do the same.

But after a moment, he groaned, rolling away. “Shit, we have to get up. Want some coffee?”

Rowan was out of bed a second later, and he was still gloriously naked. She could absolutely get used to the site of that, but he leaned over and swiped a pair of sweatpants from the chair in the corner. She took that as her cue to get dressed as well.

“Please.” Aelin threw the covers back and was looking for her clothes. She found her lace panties torn nearly in half under her wrinkled dress.

“I can lend you a shirt,” Rowan said, watching as she moved around his bedroom, still naked herself. “And some sweats.”

“Lend?” She asked, glancing at him over a shoulder. He was staring at her ass.

“Well, I’d like to see you again,” he said, taking a step closer.

Aelin hummed, pretending to weigh on his words. “I think that could be arranged.”

“Yeah?” He asked, quietly, those green eyes sparkling. “How about Friday night?”

“After the first full week of classes?” Aelin asked, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Sounds like a nice way to unwind.”

“I agree,” he muttered, and kissed her softly before tugging on her hand and leading her into his closet. “Pick whatever you want then meet me in the kitchen.”

He left and Aelin remained, standing in his massive closet. The walls were lined with hanging clothes and a long dresser took up the bulk of one wall, which is where Aelin found herself, going through drawer after drawer until she found a pair of sweats and a big, long sleeved tee. After slipping them on and pulling her hair back up, she wandered out of his bedroom and toward the kitchen.

He’d folded her dress, and set it underneath her clutch, which sat atop his kitchen table. Her coat hung on the chair near it and he’d even set her ridiculously tall heels on the floor by the chair.

Rowan asked as she padded into the kitchen, “How do you like your coffee?”

“Heavy on the creamer, heavy on the sugar,” she replied, leaning on the counter.

He chuckled. “So you don’t really like coffee?”

“Not the way it tastes, but I like the way it makes me feel.”

He smirked and Aelin knew he was debating on saying something about how he could make her feel, but he didn’t. He just motioned to her to come make her coffee.

“This place is really nice,” Aelin said, once she was blowing gently on the steaming mug in her hands. She meant it. She’d noticed last night how nice his apartment was, but she’d been a little preoccupied. Now, since she wasn’t so singularly focused, she could really appreciate it. It’s size, it’s location, the furniture filling it.

And the fact that he didn’t have a roommate. That fact had definitely not been lost on her.

He shrugged. “I’ve been blessed financially at this point in my life.”

“I’d say so,” Aelin said. “Makes my place look small and shitty.”

He chuckled as she laughed. “My aunt is the president of the university. She hooked me up.”

Aelin nodded, wandering to a wall of art. “Are these originals?”

Rowan laughed, quietly. “I’m not that blessed financially.”

Aelin smiled. “Well, they’re beautiful.”

“If I told you that you were the most beautiful piece of art in this room, how would you react?”

Aelin barked a laugh. “I would reconsider that second date.”

“Date?” Rowan asked, brow raised. “Is that what we had last night?”

Aelin’s smile grew timid. “I’d like to think it was more than a hookup.”

Rowan’s eyes softened. “Me too.”

She glanced over his shoulder, at the clock above the stove, and drained the dregs of her coffee. “Shit, I’ve got to go. I have to get ready for class.”

With a look at the clock himself, he nodded. “Where do you live? I’ll drop you off.” He definitely noticed her hesitation, and added, “There’s no time to call an Uber, if you could even get one, and I’m sure as hell not letting you walk home.”

She didn’t live far, probably only a fifteen minute walk, but finally, Aelin relented. She was thankful she and Lysandra had elected to move off campus this year. After a short ride in his very nice car, he pulled up in front of her complex and leaned over to give her another kiss. “I’ve got classes all day, but I’ll text you after I get out, yeah?”

She nodded. “Me too. I’m done at three.”

With one last kiss, she was out the door and hurrying inside. Maybe she’d be lucky and Lys and Aedion would still be asleep this early. Maybe they’d already be heading to their own classes, though she knew only she was stupid enough to book an eight am her senior year. She unlocked the door and snuck inside.

And found Lysandra and Aedion sitting at the table having breakfast.

“Good morning,” she said, attempting to breeze past them.

Lysandra was out of her seat before she’d even made it to her room. “I need details.”

“I have class!” Aelin called, refusing to stop even though Lysandra stayed on her heels. “I have to shower!”

“You’re wearing his clothes,” Lysandra crooned. “That means it was good. Really good.”

Aelin couldn’t hide her grin as she swept into her room, threw her stuff down, and grabbed a towel. “I have class,” she repeated.

“When you get home, we’re having a long conversation about this,” Lysandra said, arms crossed as Aelin strode toward the bathroom.

Aelin snorted. “Fine.”

“One thing, though,” Lysandra pushed.

Aelin looked over her shoulder with an arched brow.

“Good?” She asked, grinning.

Aelin almost felt weak in the knees thinking about it. “Oh. So good.”

Lysandra let her go then, meandering her way back into the kitchen, hearing Aedion grumble something about don’t need to hear these kinds things.

With a roll of her eyes, Aelin was closing herself in the bathroom, taking the quickest shower of her entire life.

As amazing as the sex had been, she had to get her focus back in the right place. She had a new class to start and a new professor to impress. She excelled in all of her classes, had good rapport with all of her professors and she didn’t plan on letting this class be the exception.

After a quick blow dry and the quickest, simplest makeup she’d worn in quite a while, Aelin was in her closet, trying to decide what to wear. Her eyes kept going back to the shirt she’d borrowed from Rowan, even though it was far too big for her. She said to hell with it, and pulled it over her head, throwing on some black leggings as well. If it was good enough for the snooty sorority girls, it was good enough for her.

She grabbed her backpack, throwing her laptop and a couple notebooks inside, before hurrying out into the kitchen. No time to cook breakfast, so she grabbed a protein bar and the last piece of bacon off of Aedion’s plate, who cried in outrage.

Lysandra hollered, “Have a good day!” as Aelin rushed out the door.

She knew she would regret her decision later on in the day, but rather than park in the nursing lot, Aelin parked in one of the massive general lots. She trekked through the snow, hauling ass towards the general education building she hadn’t been in since senior year.

Finding the classroom in the gen ed building turned out to be a bit more of a challenge than Aelin anticipated and she made it into the classroom with seven minutes to spare. It was huge and was set up with theater style seating, and she decided somewhere in the middle was the safest place to be until she knew what type of professor this Whitethorn guy would be. She settled in about three-quarters of the way up and yawned, wondering if texting Rowan would make her look desperate.

Pulling her phone out of her backpack, she opened the text thread and was trying to think of something witty to say that wouldn’t make her seem pathetic for texting less than a few hours after he’d dropped her off.

She could ask what early class he’d been suckered into, wondering if he was taking a fun class like her, or something that was actually important for his major. It occurred to Aelin at that point that she didn’t even know what his major was. They’d been so distracted by other things the night before that they’d completely skipped the small talk portion of their date.

Sighing, Aelin decided texting him so soon was, in fact, absolutely desperate, and was scrolling Facebook when she heard the door open at the front of the hall.

“Good morning, I’m Professor Whitethorn. Welcome to Mythology.”

Aelin glanced up from her phone and all of the color drained from her face.

Rowan stood at the front of her class.

She looked down at her phone to keep from making eye contact.

If she didn’t look up, perhaps he wouldn’t notice her there.

As long as he didn’t look at the roster.

It was a big class, though. Lecture professors didn’t typically take attendance, right?

She felt sick.

And awfully childish.

She glanced a look up at him as he introduced himself to the class. He didn’t look old enough to be a professor, couldn’t have been much older than her at twenty-one.

His words from that morning replayed in her mind. My aunt is the president of the university. She had hooked him up with a job, it was the only explanation.

Part of her wanted to grab her things and haul ass out of the hall.

Then, he would surely notice her.

“I’ll go easy on you the first day,” he continued at the front of the room. “I do, however, want to get into the basics. Let’s look at the introduction of mythology, shall we?”

Aelin opened her textbook and held it up to hide her face.

She had no idea what to do, no idea what to say.

She wanted to text Lysandra, but didn’t want to draw attention to herself by using her phone.

She had absolutely no idea what Rowan was saying, was absolutely blocking out every word he said and the notes he was writing on the board. It was going to be on a test at some point, it would be important for her GPA, but she couldn’t get over the fact that Rowan was standing at the front of the class, talking about different gods and goddesses.

Professor Whitethorn.

Holy gods, she’d fucked her professor.

And had another date with him on Friday night.

By the wyrd, she was wearing his shirt right now.

Glancing down at the gray t-shirt she wore, she saw that it was a shirt for the university baseball team, and she was fairly sure that if she could see the back, his last name would be printed across her shoulders.

Aelin sunk down in her seat and prayed no one noticed.

Sixty minutes passed.

Sixty minutes of him talking, teaching. Sixty minutes of her figuring out how to make her way out of this mess. Sixty minutes of lone panic.

Once those sixty minutes were up, Rowan said, “Alright, that’s it for today. I’ll see you again on Wednesday. Welcome to the new semester!”

The second he was finished, Aelin was jumping up and grabbing her backpack. She took one step before she tripped over the base of the seat beside her and nearly threw herself down the row in front of her.

So much for her undercover profile.

She straightened herself, and looked toward the podium at the front of the classroom, where Rowan was watching her, completely dumbfounded.

Fuck.

She adjusted the backpack on her shoulder and made her way down the stairs, trying not to focus on the fact that Rowan watched her every step of the way. She was headed for the door when he said, in a voice that was so unlike any he’d used last night, “Aelin. Can I speak with you for a moment, please?”

She froze and turned towards him, catching the eyes of a few terrified freshmen who’d also heard his tone.

She cleared her throat as she paused in front of him. “Hey.”

Rowan didn’t respond until the last student was out of the classroom, then he crossed to the door, and shut it.

Dread filled Aelin as he made his way back over to her.

“I need you to explain what the hell is going on, and quickly,” he said, voice low. “Because I am not going to jeopardize my career at one of the most prestigious schools in the country by sleeping with a freshman—.”

“I’m not a freshman,” she interrupted. “And I had no clue you were a professor, I thought you were a student—.”

“You thought I was a student?” He asked, exasperated. “Aelin—.”

“I’m a senior in the nursing program,” she interrupted. “I’m twenty-one.”

Rowan just stared at her.

She stared back, her heart racing at a million miles a minute.

Eventually, his eyes closed as he began to rub his temples. “This isn’t good.”

“Isn't it?” She asked, her voice quiet.

He shook his head. “I liked you, Aelin.”

“Liked?” She asked. “As in the past tense?”

His eyes were sad when he looked at her. “This can’t work. You know that.”

She swallowed, her gaze landing on that hickey she’d given him. It was barely peeking out of the collar of his button up, easily missed if you didn’t know it was there. Her eyes burned, regardless of the fact that she knew he was right. “Right.”

“It’s inappropriate,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the table he stood in front of. He sounded remarkably like he was trying to convince himself of that fact, too. “You’re my student. It doesn’t matter how old you are. If I had known, I never would have…”

“Given me your number?” Aelin asked, trying desperately to keep her emotions in check. The tears were threatening to spill over. “Kissed me? Slept with me?”

“Yes,” Rowan snapped, his face hardening, as if the sight of her tears was too far. “All of it. My position here is something I won’t compromise. It’s too important.”

“A position you only got because your aunt is the president?” Aelin asked, knowing it was a petty, low blow. She hadn’t even known if it was true, it was just something she assumed after what he had said that morning, something she had pieced together.

Judging by the way his jaw locked and green eyes filled with ice, Aelin knew she had struck something that didn’t need to be struck.

“I think it’s time you leave,” Rowan said, voice low. “Class has been dismissed.”

Without another word, Aelin turned, hoping he hadn’t seen her tears, and pushed through the double doors. They slammed behind her and she didn’t look back.

#rowaelin #rowan #aelin #tog #modern au #fanfic #fanfiction #throne of glass #sjm #snacmc collab #surprise chapter

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irrelevantwriter · 3 years

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White Flag

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, public sex, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, slightly vulnerable Rio, declaration of feelings (sorta?)

Word Count: 4.3K

Summary: Part 5. Two months without seeing or speaking to Rio has left a significant mark and feelings finally decide to show themselves. Kinda.

A/N: I hope everyone had a good holiday or at least a chill Friday. I come bearing gifts with the next part of our favorite toxic saga. More smut for my lovely readers. But first, some plot. We jump right into it and just like our favorite non-couple, we gloss over a lot of bullshit and get right to the filth. But as a Virgo I love communication so I have to make these two stubborn assholes talk about their issues a little. At least in a vague way. Also, Rio has his read receipts on bc he is a petty king. There’s one more part after this and it's all naughty fun from here. I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

A/N dos: I’m thinking about making the next part strictly from Rio’s POV. I feel like it’ll give us a peek into what he’s thinking and a new take on the series thus far. I’m excited to explore that so let me know what you guys think!

*Read Part 1 here

*Read Part 2 here

*Read Part 3 here

*Read Part 4 here

*Read Part 6 here

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

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

“So you’re just gonna eye fuck the hot stranger at the bar all night?”

Your friend’s teasing cut through the haze, jolting you back to the dimly lit bar. The music boomed around you while people drank and danced, enjoying the Saturday night out in the same way you and your girlfriends were.

“I was not.” You insisted, though the coy smile you wore said otherwise.

The group of women scoffed and rolled their eyes, seeing right through your faux innocence.

“Besides,” You started, taking a sip of your drink as the song changed into a bass heavy melody. “He’s not even my type.”

“Oh, bullshit!” Kara interjected with a raised brow, shaking her head.

You opened your mouth in surprise, but bit back your response when the other women chimed in.

“She’s right.” Evelyn agreed, throwing her dark hair over one shoulder.

“We knew you in high school and college, remember?” Nikki threw in, pursing her lips knowingly in your direction.

“Okay, so?” You said with a poor attempt at nonchalance.

“You were all over guys like that when we were kids. Paul ended up being the black sheep of the bunch.” Kara reminded you with a laugh, Evelyn and Nikki joining in with their own drunken giggles.

“Yeah, we were convinced you’d marry a felon with tattoos and not a real estate broker who wore khakis.” Nikki quipped, causing another round of laughter and snorts.

“Okay, okay...I get it. So I had a type. I think I’ve grown out of it.” You cut in, sounding as if you were trying to convince them as much as yourself.

“Not if the hottie at the bar has anything to say about it.” Evelyn joked with a wink.

You shook your head as you took another sip of your drink, unwilling to let them see you flustered. Or that they were in fact correct. You definitely still had a thing for bad boys...bad men to be more specific.

The evening had been going smoothly so far. It was a rare girl’s night out. An event that happened only once every five years when kids were shuttled off to babysitters or their fathers, and the women were able to enjoy an adult meal with adult beverages. Schedules between four busy women didn’t often align so when they did, you all jumped at the chance to indulge in the nightlife you’d left behind in your younger years.

You’d been the one to suggest the bar. It was a swanky, sophisticated space with an air of youth. The perfect mix for your outing. You’d been here only one other time.

With Rio.

Thinking of the man made heat pool low in your stomach, despite your lingering frustrations. It’d been two months since that shit show of a night at your house. You hadn’t seen or spoken to him since. After that debacle, you blocked his number. As childish as it may have been, you were angry. Still were. And rightfully so. He’d been a complete dick. He’d chosen the most inopportune moment to make adjustments to your arrangement. He’d been careless in his deliverance, harsh even. The entire exchange had you questioning everything. And instead of analyzing the situation and communicating like adults, you’d decided to stop all interactions with him. You’d wanted to send a message. Just as he had with you.

After the argument, you’d been an anxious mess in the days leading up to the next drop. But it was all for nothing because Rio wasn’t there. And neither was the new contact he’d told you about. Instead, Mick was waiting for you and offering up no other information. And it’d been that way for two long months.

In the days since, your mind wandered to Rio often. Your body lingered on his phantom presence constantly. You replayed the conversation you’d had a million times over and each time it made deep fury spill over and mix with the lust still raging like white water rapids through your veins. You missed his touch. Missed his desire for you. Missed the way he made you feel, so supremely sexual and wanton. All things you’d been lacking in your marriage. And now they were suddenly hitting you square in the face and begging you to pay attention. Begging you to not lose the source of your sudden awakening.

You missed the toxicity of your interactions. You were two twisted souls fighting for control over a situation that belonged to neither of you. And in truth, the basis of your relationship with Rio was denial and attraction. It would continue to thrive on that as long as you both refused the obvious.

So maybe, just maybe you’d come to the bar in hopes of seeing him in order to test that theory. It was a slim chance he’d even be here, but you were just buzzed enough that you were willing to roll the dice and find out. Plus, your desire for him felt like an extension of your body at this point. You had to satiate it. Had to feed the raw passion that grew stronger each day without him. It demanded it. And it wasn’t for lack of trying. But your own hand didn’t ignite your body the same way his did, asshole or not.

“I’ll be back.” You called over the music, gesturing to the darkened hallway that predictably led to the bathrooms. Your friends nodded and went back to flirting with the handsome blue-eyed waiter.

You shot a meaningful glance in the direction of the bar. To the “hot stranger”. Whether or not he’d take the hint was on him.

You made it to the single-use bathroom easily. It wasn’t late enough for it to be crowded with the surge of a Saturday night crowd, but the place was still busy. You set your purse down on the sleek surface of the sink counter, admiring the emerald green tiles that paved the walls. The fixtures were brass and gleamed in the light of the vanity bulbs. It was a beautiful space. Carefully crafted for a magazine like Architectural Digest.

Your eyes swept over your reflection in the large mirror that sat over the sink. You made sure not a lash was out of place as you surveyed your appearance. You adjusted the low neckline of your yellow dress, the hue radiating more gold than you’d initially noticed. The silk material felt cool against your heated skin, the slit in the skirt offering some relief. The long sleeves of the garment added a sleekness to the otherwise risqué ensemble. You’d never worn the dress. But tonight seemed as good a time as any to debut it.

The sound of the bathroom door creaking open made you pause, eyes watching in the mirror for who entered. You wondered if it’d be him. Wondered if he ended up following you like you’d hoped.

Your stomach knotted when Rio stepped in, closing the door and locking it with a resounding click. He was stoic. Shrouded in black and looking every bit as menacing as he truly was. A sight for your sore eyes.

You turned to face him, your chest both tightening and expanding at seeing him in the flesh. He made your heart stutter and your spine tingle, yet irritation slowly seeped into your pores, reminding you of the last interaction you’d had with him. It was a clash of sensations and feelings. It was utter chaos. And it's what you’d been missing.

Silence hung in the air as his gaze roamed your figure, appraising you hungrily. You shivered, careful to hide the gesture from his intense stare. You schooled your features and angled your chin up in confidence that you weren’t entirely sure you felt. But you weren’t going to budge. You were going to make him come to you.

He was leaning up against the door, a barely there smirk adorning his lips. His scent began to eclipse the smell of vanilla soap that permeated the air. Your eyes wanted to roll back at the familiarity of it. It was soothing. A comfort to your deprived senses.

“You miss me, mama?”

That deep rasp made your panties soak immediately. It was a question he’d asked you many times in the past, but you’d never felt it as much as you did now. Because yeah, you did fucking miss him.

You stayed silent.

He chucked at your refusal to answer. “Still mad at me?”

Again you said nothing.

He licked his lips, eyeing yours as he did. “I tried calling.”

“I blocked your number.” You finally responded, voice icy and detached.

“Damn, that’s cold.” He said with an amused shake of his head and a laugh, the sound making your nipples harden in traitorous lust.

“Why? Did you need something?” You questioned coolly, crossing your arms over your chest to hide your mounting arousal. Your thighs rubbed together, beginning to slid against each other as your arousal made itself known.

He stepped forward, heading in your direction with intent. You straightened your back, unwilling to let him get the upper hand on you. You knew what was going to happen. Knew where this was headed. So why not use it to your advantage? Why not toy with him for a change? He deserved it.

You used the added height of your heels and eased yourself onto the countertop, parting your thighs slightly so that your dress fell between them. You leaned back on your hands, the chill of the marble countertop beneath you reminding you so much of that day in your kitchen.

Rio’s steps halted momentarily as he watched you, eyes zeroed in on the juncture between your thighs that was hidden behind the silk. Your pussy practically begged for his attention. Dared him to see your need through the fabric that shielded you.

You were still upset with him. Still displeased with the way he’d chosen to handle the situation and you. But more than anything you wanted him to succumb to you. You wanted to feel that thrill of having him at your mercy. So powerful, yet so fragile in the midst of his bliss. You wanted...no, needed him to wave his white flag first.

“Tell me then,” You began, slowly easing the hem of your dress up as you spoke. “Business or personal?” You questioned, wanting to know if he’d be truthful about why he’d tried to contact you.

He resumed his path towards you with a dangerous lick of his lips, but his gaze never faltered as it took in every new stretch of skin that was revealed. He tried to reach out and touch you, but you raised a heeled foot to his abdomen and stopped him, keeping him at a distance.

“Answer me.” You breathily demanded.

His face registered your words while his eyes took in the stretch of leg that kept him away. You eased the limb back down and waited for him to comply.

He decided to play along.

“Business.”

He continued walking when you didn’t stop him, standing between your legs and trailing his fingertips along the inside of them. His movements shifted your dress up even higher onto your thighs. The sensation would’ve tickled if you weren’t already deliriously turned on.

“Liar.” You accused, already feeling his warmth radiate onto you as he edged closer. His breath mingled with yours, mint and whiskey assaulting your nose.

“So are you.” He retorted, eyes planted firmly on your parted lips. He moved in until you were sure he could do nothing else but touch his mouth to yours. And yet you still weren’t going to meet him.

“So we’re both liars?” You asked, arching a brow up at him.

“Yeah.” He nodded and swallowed, the tattoo splashed across his throat pulling your focus. You fell captive to his spell as you got lost in memories of licking and sucking the inked flesh, remembering the way he tasted on your tongue. The recollection caused your legs to widen and your back to arch into him, pushing your chest against his. God, you wanted him. You wanted him so badly that your pussy clenched around nothing, as if feeling him already deep inside you. It was a silent call to a lover. One he would never hear. But he’d feel it soon enough.

Your clit throbbed against your lace panties, aching to be assaulted by his talented fingers. With him so close you could feel just how badly you needed him inside you. It felt wrong for him not to be. Felt wrong to not have him share a pulse with you when he was this near. You were going to remedy that.

“Well then,” You whispered, leaning forward to hover over his lips. “I don’t want you to fuck me in this bathroom.”

His hands glided up your thighs while his nose skimmed along your cheek. His breath was hot against your ear as he maneuvered himself so that barely a sliver of air was left between you.

“So I won’t.” He lied in return, the words coating you like his cum had done numerous times before.

In an instant your lips were being pulled to his. His hands were suddenly everywhere and all at once, seeking out your flesh in desperation. It pleased you to know just how badly he needed you. How badly he craved you.

He slid you closer to him, letting your lace-covered lower half come into contact with his crotch. Ragged breaths and low hums filtered through the air as your bodies grinded against each other, seeking firm hands. You could feel him pressed against the zipper of his dark pants. He was hard. The notion made you moan into his mouth, scraping your nails over his scalp.

It was just like riding a bike. Except there was an added layer of intensity this time that hadn’t been there before. His touch burned hotter than usual. Your grew cunt wetter with every pass of his tongue along yours. They weren’t new sensations, but they felt different. Indescribable. Perhaps it was the public sex. Perhaps it was the underlying tension. Either way, it was remarkably explosive.

You pulled away from his insistent lips to take in air. He continued on, mouth moving over your neck and across your exposed cleavage. He nipped at the flesh, his lips sensuously soothing the area as he explored. You pushed into him in invitation, widening your legs so that he could press harder into you.

You waited for him to take the next step. Waited for him to escalate the moment into more than just heavy-petting and sloppy kisses. His hands, as if reading your mind, traveled up the skirt of your dress and found the edge of your panties. There was no hesitation or teasing in his movements as he roughly pulled them off, the elastic popping against your skin and making you cry out.

Rio licked at your neck in apology, his own hands now moving to his belt. You shifted closer to the ledge of the counter and followed the trail of heat that led to his pulsing cock. His flesh bumped against you, the feel of him hot and heavy along your soaked slit making you whimper.

Your nails dug into the fabric of his shirt as he pushed forward and sheathed himself inside of you in one hard thrust. You gasped and tightened your legs around him, your right hand in search of something solid. It landed on the mirror behind you, your palm sticking to its cool surface as you braced yourself for the inevitable.

His facial hair scratched at your skin as he buried himself into your neck. He held your hips steady as he retreated and then plunged back into your welcoming walls, stretching you with a burn that made you hiss. Your pussy massaged his length with fervor, seducing him further inside and begging him to claim you once again.

You reached for anything you could to stabilize yourself as he fucked you into the reflective glass at your back. Moans and groans intertwined as your bodies rocked against each other. The soap dispenser fell into the sink with a loud clatter as you accidentally made contact with it. The stack of towels folded neatly near the faucet became disheveled as your ass knocked them out of place with the momentum from Rio’s cock. The entire vanity shook with each intensely thorough thrust of his hips into your womb. It was animalistic. The very epitome of what bathroom sex in a bar should be.

No words were said. None were needed. Your actions led the conversation.

You squeezed your inner muscles around him, daring him to surrender before you. He twitched, his hips stuttering at the feel of you so tight and wet around him. He growled into your ear, a sure sign that he loved the gesture a little too much.

So you did it again.

“Stop that shit.” He grunted, hips picking up their pace.

“Cum.” You whispered in response, the demand disguised as a request.

“Fuck…” He groaned when you held him to you and clenched around him once more. You trapped him, giving him no choice but to experience your deliberate enticement. His fingers dug into your thighs almost painfully so, forcing you to wince.

He was close.

You reached between your bodies and massaged your clit, feeling your pussy react immediately. Sporadic tremors vibrated your walls and his cock, making both of you moan. Rio’s palm slammed into the mirror at your back as he rutted his hips harder into yours. He was rough and unforgiving, the aggression heightened by your disobedience. It had never quite been like this. There had always been a touch of softness, a soothing placation or word of encouragement. Not tonight. Not as he fucked you so hard you were sure the mirror was going to crack and rain down luminescent crystals of glass over you both.

You showed no mercy as you forced him to submit to you and your body. The precipice was there. It was within reach. You could feel that tightly wound coil ready to unravel. It felt like too much and not enough at the same time. Your mind was a prisoner to your pleasure. You thought of nothing but the sweet release that you knew was waiting for you. And it was. It was waiting for you with open arms as Rio finally came, triggering your own climax as he filled you so deliciously full of himself. His entire body tensed within you as he held you firm and painted your shuttering walls.

The familiar sensation only added to your high as your limbs tensed and loosened with each wave of euphoria that washed over you. You squeezed your eyes shut and catapulted through space as your body struggled to ground itself once again. Rio had gone rigid, letting you ride out your orgasm in peace as you suffocated his cock. His cum was already leaking from your walls before you’d even finished, a trail of him decorating your swollen pussy.

Your eyes fluttered open to see him staring back at you, his lips pulled into a lazy smirk. You mirrored his expression, releasing a breathless chuckle. Your body still hummed in excitement, but this time it was punctuated by the deep satisfaction that radiated from between your thighs.

“You good?” You teased, hands resting on his chest and feeling the rapid beats of his heart beginning to slow.

He laughed, the sound low and tinged with fatigue. “Yeah.”

He licked his lips and took in your disheveled state, gaze catching a glimpse of the lace bra you wore underneath.

“Let me drive you home.” He said suddenly, his arrogance alive and well.

It was on the tip of your tongue to deny him, but you chose not to.

“Sure.”

**********

The car ride was silent.

After your impromptu coupling in the bathroom, you’d made up an excuse about not feeling well to your friends and explained you’d already called an Uber. They were hesitant to let you leave alone, but somehow you’d persuaded them to stay and not follow you. You were sure the alcohol they’d consumed had something to do with it.

With hugs and promises of texts that everyone made it home safe at the end of the night, you departed from the bar with Rio in his Mercedes. He��d been driving for about ten minutes, the air not as tense as it’d once been. He seemed content to let the quiet linger, but you weren’t.

“What happened to the new guy?” You asked, glimpsing his face to gauge his reaction. It was dark in the vehicle, but you could still make out his silhouette amongst the various street lights.

He furrowed his brow and pouted his lips, confusion reading easily across his features.

“What new guy?”

“My new contact. The one I was supposed to have.”

“Didn’t work out. Mick has it handled.” He replied simply, gaze still trained on the road in front of him.

“Okay.” You said with a nod, the dryness in your tone letting him know you didn’t quite believe him.

He wordlessly turned onto your street and came to a stop alongside your driveway, putting the SUV in park. He angled his body to face you, trapping you in his stare.

“It was never about you.”

The question must’ve shown on your face because he continued.

“The switch. It wasn’t about you.”

“Wasn’t very convincing.” You deadpanned, scoffing as you played with the zipper of your clutch.

He didn’t react right away. Instead, he watched you. Watched you in that way that let you know his thoughts were as impure as the counterfeit money he produced.

“You look good in that dress.” He complimented, chin jutting out and gesturing to the fabric that adorned your body.

His praise made warmth bloom in your chest. The kind of warmth that was usually accompanied by butterflies in your stomach.

“Thanks.” You replied evenly, not letting him see just what his words did to you. Though you had a feeling he did, despite not bearing witness to it outright.

“Better without it.” He added with a slide of his wicked tongue across his bottom lip, his teeth following. The action was purposeful. Erotic. Blatant. It was all Rio.

You didn’t respond to his flirting. You only sighed, mirroring his position as you resigned yourself to have an honest conversation with the man.

“So,” You started, forcing your fingers to still. “What is it that you want?”

He eyed you for a long moment. Long enough that you started to feel self-conscious.

“You.”

You nodded, disappointed but not shocked by his reply. The word wasn’t new. Though it was lacking the hollow cockiness that usually accompanied it.

You opened your mouth to respond, but he spoke up before you could.

“In whatever way you’ll let me have you.” He admitted.

The statement caught you off guard. He wasn’t trying to be cute or charming. He wasn’t being placating or condescending. He was being serious, the hardened intensity in his dark orbs softening to a tender resignation that you were sure matched yours.

“What about you? What do you want?” He repeated back to you, eyes narrowing as he waited.

You took a moment to observe him. Your eyes followed the arch of his brows and the sharp jut of his cheekbones. You studied the pout of his lower lip and his Adam's apple as it bobbed with his throat muscles. He was so many things to you. None of which you could put into words. You didn’t think a word had even been invented yet. It didn’t matter. You were both making your own rules. And it seemed, for once, that the both of you were on the same page and playing by the same rules.

“I want you to have me.” You confessed, meeting his gaze.

And there it was. He was resigned to having you in limited capacity. You were resigned to finally letting him have you. Two conclusions coming together at the same moment. You weren’t quite sure what that meant for you both, but it was a start.

“Goodnight.” You whispered into the darkened cab, a small smile pulling at your lips.

You didn’t wait for him to react. You turned and opened the door, exiting the vehicle. He didn’t try to stop you. You rounded the front of the car, hearing the driver’s side window slide down.

“So I’ll see you next week?” Rio asked out the open window, chin resting in his hand.

“At the drop?”

He nodded.

You shook your head and laughed, though there was no real humor behind it.

“You wanna tell me again it wasn’t about me?” You challenged, a wide grin decorating your face.

He could deny it. He would probably try. But you knew the truth. And that was enough.

For now.

“Night.” He called, an amused upturn of his lips showing in the light of the full moon.

He turned to the street, starting the car as you walked up your driveway. His eyes followed you the whole way, ensuring you made it in safely.

You heard him drive away once you shut and locked the front door, your lungs releasing a long breath. You pulled out your cell phone and went to your blocked caller list. You selected Rio’s number and unblocked the listing, adrenaline releasing into your bloodstream as you did.

Almost immediately your screen lit up with a text.

Same time and place tomorrow?

You bit your lip, feelings akin to teenage infatuation bubbling to the surface. You hastily typed a response.

See you there.

The message was read immediately.

Rio Tags:

@tomhardydallasstarsgirl

#rio #good girls rio #rio good girls #rio x you #rio x reader #rio imagine #rio fanfiction #rio fanfic #nbc good girls #good girls nbc

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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

Text

We Make a Pretty Good Team

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: It’s game night at the Avengers Tower, and you find the perfect partner in Loki. Warnings: ‘tis but fluff A/N: Just another self-indulgent, fluffy story. Hope you enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“First Saturday of the month. You know what that means,” Tony hollered to the Avengers scattered about the Tower.

“Yes!” Thor boomed. “Be prepared to lose.”

“Funny,” Clint laughed with a roll of his eyes. “I was just about to say the same thing to you.”

“What is happening?” you asked, somewhat bewildered, as the heroes came into the room. “What’s significant about Saturday?”

“Oh my gosh, that’s right. You just missed the last one. Every first Saturday of the month we have a game night,” Nat explained.

You’d been part of the team for just under a month, having officially joined on a Sunday. So, it was true that you’d yet to experience their apparently traditional game night. It sounded like a great deal of fun, though, especially because the Avengers had become your second family in the short time you’d known them. Well, you’d actually known Nat and Clint for years, since you all worked for SHIELD. In fact, they were a huge part of the reason you were an Avenger now. A few months ago there was a particularly dangerous crime ring, and they’d specifically requested you as backup. You’d clicked with everyone immediately and, numerous transfer papers later, here you were.

“Sounds exciting!” you told them. “What are we playing first?”

“Well actually,” Bruce said kind of sheepishly, “it’s not that I want you to sit out, but they’re all team games, and we don’t have an even number of people.”

“So we have a team of three,” Nat said, as if it were obvious.

“No way. That’s unfair,” Tony argued.

You bit your lip, feeling like maybe you were intruding on something you shouldn’t be a part of. It was their thing, after all, and perhaps there was simply no room for a newcomer. As they continued to bicker about whether one larger team mattered or not, you considered just slipping away. That’s when you noticed that there was someone missing.

“What about Loki?” you said. “He would make the numbers even.”

Much to your surprise, everyone burst out laughing. You nervously ran your sweaty palms on the legs of your pants and let out a small laugh, though you weren’t quite sure at what. Once their cackling died down, you dared to ask what was so funny.

“My brother never attends these games nights,” Thor informed you. “He isn’t one for group activities, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“Well, have you ever invited him?”

“Once or twice,” Tony said. “Listen, if you want to try to make a social butterfly out of Reindeer Games, be my guest. In the meantime, we’ll work out a feasible way for us all to play.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed a little, standing up to go find Loki. It was honestly ridiculous that they still treated him the way they did. Sure, he likes to be alone sometimes, but that doesn’t mean he likes being lonely. Not that he’d ever actually admitted to you that he was, but you knew. It was blatantly obvious in the way he sent longing glances toward the rest of the team when you gathered together. You always made sure to ask him over, an invitation he usually accepted. Everyone else had laughed the first time you’d done that, too. They’d only ever asked him a few times, and it was right when he was new and still so lost, so alone, so afraid. Why they took that to just be his permanent disposition, you didn’t know. Regardless of how insensitive they were to his situation, your inclusivity had brought Loki out of his shell a bit, and a friendship had blossomed between you.

A short walk later, you reached his door. You stretched out a hand, but hesitated to knock. Doubt gnawed at the back of your mind. Maybe he truly was not a fan of board games, and then you’d be interrupting his night. After all, he must have a tradition of his own if this happens every first Saturday. Still, you knew that was usually not the case, and steeled yourself against the uncertainty.

“Hello, my little mortal,” he greeted you, opening the door. “Is everything alright?”

“No.”

“What is it? Are you ill? Hurt?” he questioned, jumping into action and shepherding you to his couch.

“No, nothing like that,” you laughed, though you were touched by his concern. “It’s just that it’s game night, and we don’t have an even number of people.”

“Oh? And I suppose that you are asking me to join,” he mused as you nodded. “I am not usually invited, and I am notorious spoiled sport, just ask Thor.”

“Well, people say a lot of things about you, and they’re usually not true.” He shrugged his shoulders. “You don’t have to play if you really don’t want to, but will you? Please. For me?”

“For you, my little mortal, anything. After all, how can I resist those puppy dog eyes?”

You giggled and led the way out of his room, ignoring the thumping of your heart when his hand accidentally brushed yours. Nat and Tony were still bickering about the teams when you arrived, but were quickly stunned into silence when they saw Loki.

“Brother! Good to see you’ve decided to join,” Thor greeted, breaking the somewhat awkward silence. “Shall we begin then?”

First up was Cranium, and you could tell that everyone else was divided into their usual teams: Tony and Bruce, Clint and Nat, Thor and Steve. You rubbed your hands in excitement, ready for some friendly competition.

“Yes!” you shouted a while later, after you and Loki answered the final question right. “We win!”

Everyone else’s jaw hung open, shocked by how serious of a competitor you were. Not to say you were mean-spirited or gloated or anything, but it was obvious you took game night very seriously. Loki was a little surprised too, but he relished in the infectious energy of your feisty spirit. Not to mention he absolutely loved to be on the winning team.

“Congratulations, guys,” Steve said. “Don’t expect to get as lucky in the next game, though.”

The next game, apparently, was charades, which you and Loki absolutely dominated again. The two of you worked as a well-oiled machine, guessing the simple ones like sewing and the more obscure ones like whale watching with ease. Loki was also surprisingly knowledgeable about Midgardian movies and literature. The two of you high fived, having just edged out the competition.

“Wow, good job guys,” Nat congratulated. “Tony and Bruce usually win that one.”

“Way to rub it in,” Tony groaned, flopping back on the couch.

You could tell a part of him wanted to accuse Loki of cheating but, having no real evidence and not wanting to start a fight, restrained himself. Instead, he contented himself with just mumbling how much of an outrage it was. You, however, were on cloud nine.

As the next game was set up, Loki pulled you onto his lap, instilled with confidence after his latest wins. Of course, if anyone were to ask, he would just say he was saving room on the couch. It would have, though, been a lie.

“Ready for a clean sweep, my little mortal?” he whispered, his breath surprising cold on your ear.

“Bring it on!” you whispered back with a wink.

The last game of the night was Pictionary, and by now everyone knew you and Loki were the team to beat. Unfortunately for them, you got this win, too. The Avengers let out a collective sigh as you shouted a victorious whoop and hugged Loki.

“Good game everyone,” you said, starting to help clean up.

“What are you doing, my little mortal?” Loki questioned, half joking. “Do you not know the losers have to clean up?”

“Not sure that’s actually a rule, Rock of Ages,” Tony grumbled.

“Fine, I’ll help,” he replied, placing a singular piece back in the box. “There. Now it is time for our victory lap.”

Then he scooped you up bridal style using his superhuman strength and began running you around the Tower in his arms, both laughing the whole time. He finally brought you to a stop on the balcony of his room.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that right?” you said, still chuckling.

“Perhaps. But we deserved that after an excellent showing.”

“I guess so. As much as it pains me to admit it, we should probably go easy on them next time. We’ll just win one a night, ok?”

“That’s my little mortal,” he happily sighed, wrapping his arms around you. “Always looking out for others. Always looking out for me. Thank you for inviting me along tonight.”

“No problem. It was a lot of fun. We make a pretty good team.”

“Indeed.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, and you rested against Loki, whose arms were still wrapped around you. He felt more relaxed and happy than he had in a while. He knew he’d ask you out someday, but right now he was still too shy, this friendship still too new. One day he would, though, and he couldn’t wait to get there and to every day after.

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fandom-imagines-stories · 3 years

Text

Learning Teamwork

Josh Lyman x Reader

Words: 2184

Summary: Two colleagues that usually butt heads are forced to play nice when the President sends them to attend to a Governor's Ball in his home state.

Notes: I have so much Josh angst I wanted to write something a little fluffier that I could still capture his signature snark in. (For the purposes of this, I made up a Governor that would fit the story so if there was one discussed in the show, they aren’t in this one.) I also wrote this in two days so… bare with me.

If you hadn’t been in the presence of the President, you might have thrown something at him.

“If the President addresses this now, the Republicans will stop at nothing to get back at him for it.” He spoke in that smug, know-it-all tone that drove you insane.

“This is about real people, Mr. Lyman, not the little politics games that you play all day.”

“Okay, everyone, I think that’s enough.” The President’s order may have halted your argument, but you could still feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you stared Josh down. The rest of the team made a very quick exit, hoping to avoid becoming casualties in you and Josh’s on-going battle. But when the two of you started for the door, President Bartlet’s voice called you back. “Not. You. Two.”

You grimaced and turned back around, reveling a little in the fact that Josh looked just as uncomfortable as you did. One stern look from Jed Bartlet, however, was enough to diminish that.

“Is it physically impossible for the two of you to let me get through one meeting without going at each other’s throats?” He urged, his irritated gaze switching rapidly between the both of you. “Not only are you both a part of this team, you are adults for Christ sake!”

“Sorry, sir.” You gulped.

“My apologies, Mr. President.”

God, even apologizing, he had to try and sound smarter than you.

“I’m not finished yet.” The President walked around his desk and grabbed an envelope from under a pile of other papers. “The Governor of New Hampshire is hosting a ball on Saturday to celebrate something that I can’t even remember. Frankly, I think it’s because his wife enjoys parties a little too much, but who am I to judge?”

You and Josh exchanged a look that consisted more of confusion than anger.

Bartlet continued, “Well, seeing as I used to be Governor of my home state, he’s been kind enough to invite me, though I also think this is more of a way to get more Democratic backing for his next election. Nevertheless, while I am unable to attend due to this whole mess with possible terrorism, I know just the two members of my senior staff to send in my place.” He looked pointedly at both of you.

The excuses tumbled over each other as you and Josh blurted them out, desperately pleading to find something that would change his mind. You hated political gatherings in general but the idea of being forced to go with Josh? It twisted your stomach into so many knots you thought you’d throw up.

“There’s going to be political fallout from all of this and I should really be around-”

“C.J. and Toby are going to need me to-”

“Y/N could go by herself.” Josh said suddenly, making your jaw drop. That little snake. “I’m sure there are plenty of young men that’ll be thrilled to see you.”

“Says one of the White House’s most eligible bachelors.” You fired back, forgetting who you were standing in front of.

“Enough!” The President slammed the invitation down on the desk in front of the two of you. “This isn’t about who is more desirable than who. This is about you two learning how to work as a team and not biting each other’s heads off every time you’re in the same room together! Now, I am calling Governor Thompson and telling him you’re going and the two of you are going to be the picture of grace and maturity. If I hear one word of anything else, so help me god, your careers will be so buried, it’ll take years before they see the light of day.” His voice echoed through the Oval Office, rattling you down to the bone. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“Good. Now go do whatever you need to to free up next Saturday.” He sat down, putting on his glasses to look over other documents. “Oh, and find something nice to wear. Mrs. Thompson has always been a bit of a stickler with the dress code.”

With that, you were dismissed and you felt the dread settling in your chest. You were going to a ball. In New Hampshire. With Josh Lyman for a date. As you shouldered out the door together, you cast glowering looks.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you more.”

If the snickers from Sam and C.J. weren’t enough to drive you crazy in the week leading up to your flight, scrambling to find a dress was not something you originally had on your schedule. Even when you had found one you liked, there was the matter of rescheduling everything you had the weekend you would be gone.

At least Josh seemed to be having as difficult a time as you were. Any time you saw him in passing, he looked frantic and disheveled- which would usually bring you a small amount of joy, but for some reason, knowing you were in the same boat actually made you feel better about going with him.

“Hey.”

You looked up from the piles of work from your desk, surprised to see your unfortunate date standing in your doorway. It was the day before you were set to leave and you both had mountains of work to try and finish.

“What can I help you with, Josh?”

“I just came to say that this might not be such a bad idea.” He moved from the door to the chair, but he didn’t sit down. He just stood anxiously behind it, leaning on the back. He actually looked sincere- and a voice in the back of your head pointed out that, without his usual cloud of arrogance that always hung around him, he was actually very attractive.

No. Definitely not. You hated him.

“Which part? Going to a ridiculous dance so that Governor Thompson can get more clout with Democrats or the fact that we have to go as a bonding exercise?” Your tone was cold, even more so than usual. Call it overcorrecting for your brain’s traitorous thoughts.

“I think the President is right.” Josh’s posture changed, standing up a little straighter as his tone grew defensive. “If this is what it takes to get us to work together, then I guess we deserve it.”

“Funny, since when he first proposed the idea you suggested that I go alone.” You stood up, crossing your arms.

Josh mimicked your stance, his brow furrowing with anger. “Look, I came in here to make some kind of peace with you, and I don’t understand-”

“I know what you came here to do, Josh. You want to show me that I don’t understand Bartlet the way you do while you play some kind of martyr for going on this trip.” You leaned forward with your hands on your desk and he did the same. Your faces must have only been a few inches apart.

“Fine!”

You’d never wanted to kiss Josh Lyman more than you did in that moment and couldn’t hate him more for it.

Your seats on the plane were right next to each other. Because of course, they were. Josh got the window seat despite your protests, sticking you in the middle between him and a rather obnoxious businessman who was speaking loudly on his phone.

“Sir, I need you to turn that off as we prepare to take off.” The flight attendant instructed.

“Yeah, just give me a second.”

“Now, sir.” Her voice was a semi-irritated monotone that left little room for any argument. The man gave her an annoyed look and ended his call. “Thank you, sir.” She continued down the aisle to berate somebody else. Without the distraction of work, he sought out a new way to pass the time- you.

“What takes you to Concord?” He leaned a little closer to you than you would have preferred, but leaning back would basically put you in Josh’s lap so you stayed put.

“My coworker and I have an event to attend.” You motioned to the seemingly oblivious man on the other side of you.

“Just coworker?” His casual expression turned into a suggestive smirk and you felt his fingers run up your knee. You jerked away from him.

“Husband, actually, so how about you keep your hands to yourself?” Josh snapped suddenly, giving Mr. Handsy a death glare. You stared at Josh with wide eyes and forced your mouth shut to keep it from gaping in shock. The man beside you must have been as surprised as you because words came out as a whispered stutter.

“Sorry, I didn’t- she said- and I thought-”

“Yeah, well you thought wrong.” He stood up. “Here, honey, why don’t you take the window seat?”

You sat there, without moving, for a few seconds before he nudged your leg with his foot and you climbed over him to get to the seat by the window. Once you were both situated, the other man got suddenly very interested in the papers from his briefcase.

You leaned over and whispered in Josh’s ear. “Honey? Really?”

“Don’t start.” Though his voice sounded irritated, there was almost a small smile playing at his lips. You shifted awkwardly, trying to keep a smirk from your own lips.

“You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Do you want the window seat or not?” Now his smile had grown into a snicker, making you laugh lightly.

“Who would have thought you were such a gentleman?”

“Well, I’m a married man now, apparently.” He teased. You rolled your eyes.

“In your dreams, Lyman.”

After an hour of shaking hands and dancing with the Governor’s persistent son, you were ready to knock your head against the wall until you passed out. Oddly enough, you had yet to see Josh. Mrs. Thompson invited you to come early for tea so you hadn’t arrived together. You were beginning to think he’d bailed when you saw him across the room.

Pushing your way over to him, his eyes widened when he finally saw you.

“You look amazing.” He gasped, his eyes scanning your silky blue dress before settling on your eyes. “I mean… wow.”

You felt blush tint your cheeks as a smile spread across your lips. He cleaned up pretty well himself and you found yourself checking him out for what you wished you could say was the first time ever. What could you say? The man looked good in suits.

You must have stood there, staring at each other, for a few minutes before Ned Thompson came into view. Without a second to think, you grabbed Josh’s hand.

“Dance with me.”

“What?”

“Just do it.” You yanked him with you onto the dance floor, losing sight of the Governor’s persistent son.

Josh looked around, trying to see who you seemed so desperate to avoid as the two of you began to sway to the music. “What was that about?”

You checked one more time to make sure the coast was clear. “Ned.”

“The Governor’s kid?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t he, like, ten years younger than you.”

“He’s only eight, but yes.” You rolled your eyes, annoyed by his pestering. On the bright side, he was a pretty good dancer. “If I dance with him one more time, I think he’ll propose.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Just tell him you’re married to me.” Josh smirked. “Worked the last time.” You both chuckled and continued dancing. For a while, you forgot why you were here to begin with. You were enjoying yourself more than you cared to admit. In a room full of people, the only one you wanted to dance with was the man you loved to hate.

Maybe it was the other way around.

You sat up in bed, sipping coffee and reading the paper while the sound of the hotel’s heater droned on. The fluffy white robe enveloped your body perfectly, but the real warmth came from the sleeping form beside you as he turned over, swinging his arm so it was around your waist and pulling you closer to him. You smiled in both amusement and complete bewilderment as to how you got here.

“I don’t think this is what the President meant by ‘teamwork’.” You noted, folding up the paper and setting it aside.

Josh peeked up at you, half his face still smooshed against the pillow.

“Goodmorning.” He greeted groggily, rubbing his eyes as he slowly sat up.

“I made you coffee.” You handed him the little Styrofoam cup and waited until he’d had enough to wake up a little more. “What are we supposed to tell him when he asks how everything went?”

He thought for a moment. “You know, we didn’t fight at all last night.” He was right. Between the ball and, well, everything after that, not a single argument was had.

You shrugged and held out your cup of coffee for a cheers. “To teamwork,” Josh smirked and tapped his cup against yours.

“To teamwork.”

#josh lyman x reader #the west wing #bradley whitford #jed bartlet #the west wing imagines #josh lyman #c.j. cregg #sam seaborn #joshua lemon lyman

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mothandpidgeon · 3 years

Text

Pedro from the Phone

Pairing: Pedro Across the Street x You

Summary: “Who is this?” “What? You called me.” Unexplainable phone calls keep connecting you and Pedro.

Words: ~1400

Rating: all ages? (sorry this is not sexy)

Warnings: a lot of pining???

A/N: So Calls gave me a lot of ✨feelings✨ but when I started messing around with the elements of the show, this is what came out. I did not mean to make PROPERFUCK Pedro Across the Street so soft and I’m not sure how I feel about it. Alas. Let me know what you think. 👉👈

“Hello?”

The first time it happened, Pedro nearly knocked his phone off of the nightstand. It was 3 am and he’d been fast asleep when his phone rang.

“Hello?”

He heard your voice on the other end of the call, ragged like you’d just been woken up.

“Who is this?” he’d asked.

“What? You called me,” you complained.

Pedro didn’t know if this was some kind of prank or a scam— he knew plenty about those. He hung up and fell right back to sleep. In the morning, he hardly remembered the strange phone call.

A week later, it happened again. His phone lit up, buzzing on the counter. This time it was just after noon and he was fixing himself lunch.

“Why do you keep calling me?!” you demanded when he picked up. You hung up before he could tell you he wanted to know the same thing.

When it happened again, Pedro sent the call the voicemail. It was irritating. He was going to have to start screening his calls.

He began waking to strange voicemails. The sound of you rolling over in bed with a groan, your voice singing along to the radio, a horn honking and your same irritated tone yelling, “Fuck off!” It was always you, he could recognize your voice now. The messages were bizarre and they gave Pedro goosebumps. These were moments that had not been intended for his ears. Why did they keep ending up on his phone?

After a month of this, his curiosity overtook him. When the unknown number rang again in the evening, he picked up.

He was silent for a long moment.

“Hello?”

“Have you been leaving me voicemails?” He adopted the smooth tone he used when speaking with women.

He heard your breath hitch.

“I keep getting these weird messages,” you said in wonder.

“You haven’t been calling me?” he asked.

“No. Have you been calling me?”

“No,” he answered.

There was another pause and all Pedro could hear was the crackle of the phone.

“I guess the universe is trying to tell us something,” he said.

“The universe?” you asked skeptically.

“You know, some things just can’t be explained,” he said.

“I’m sure it can be explained,” you said. “Probably a glitch with the phone company. Or, I don’t know, Russian hackers or something.”

Pedro chuckled.

You told him that you would call the phone company. That would be the end of it. But the next day, Pedro’s phone was ringing again.

“They told me they don’t have any record of these calls I keep getting,” you said. You sounded perplexed. “You’re not messing with me, are you?”

“You think I like getting these calls?”

It would just have to be something you both suffered through until the hackers or the magic of the universe decided to give it a rest.

The calls became routine. You and Pedro would answer each one with good humor.

“We really have to stop meeting like this,” he would laugh.

“What are you wearing?” you would joke.

If you were going to be in this strange situation together, you might as well get to know each other. It felt like you were pen pals. He learned that you were in a dead end job, you wanted to be a writer, wanted to travel. Pedro found himself being open with you, more than he would have been if you weren’t just a voice on the phone. He wasn’t usually like that with women. But he felt he could tell you anything. Except he didn’t share that your raspy voice in those early morning phone calls always turned him on. He didn’t even know what you looked like.

Sometimes the calls were just a quick hello.

“You’re cooking? What’s for dinner?”

“Have fun at the potluck!”

Sometimes you would talk for hours. Pedro would fight to keep his eyes open as the night would wear on. He would listen to you murmur, “Goodnight, Pedro,” and then hear your voice in his dreams.

Sometimes Pedro found himself waiting for the phone to ring. He collected little stories he wanted to tell you. When he’d had a rough day, he would wish that his phone would start vibrating and your voice would be there.

“I was thinking about you when I was at the grocery store,” you’d tell him.

And then the calls stopped.

He shouldn’t have been so surprised. Pedro’s phone would ring but it would just be work or a lady friend or a telemarketer. He had been answering your calls for over four months now but you’d never actually given each other a phone number. You’d never had to. Just like that, you were gone.

Weeks stretched on. There was no explaining how the calls had started so there would be no knowing why they stopped. He missed talking to you. He missed the feeling like you might pop up on his phone at any moment. Maybe you hadn’t even been real. Maybe you had been some scammer. Some mystery. Pedro let go and life went back to the way it was.

It was early hours of the morning and Pedro was sleeping. He was woken up by the sound of a low hum. It took him a moment in his groggy state to realize that it was his phone vibrating against the night stand.

His heart jumped and his shaky hand catapulted the phone to the floor. He nearly fell out of bed trying to grab for it in the dark before the call could go to voicemail.

“Pedro?” your voice came through clearly. You sounded just as shaken as he felt.

He could barely form a word.

“Are you there?” you asked.

“I’m here,” he said.

You laughed with relief.

“I thought that was it,” you said.

“We should meet up,” Pedro said quickly as if you might disappear again at any moment.

He held his breath. He wouldn’t blame you for saying no. You were, in fact, strangers when it came down to it.

“Tomorrow,” you said.

You told him the name of a cafe where you liked to write on Saturdays. It was only an hour’s drive from him.

“I’ll be there,” he said.

He didn’t want to hang up.

“I’ll see you then,” you said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Pedro couldn’t fall back to sleep.

He was right on time to meet you. He was filled with anticipation. How would he know it was you? Would things be different sitting down, face to face? What if you didn’t like him? Such a childish thought. He pushed all of his worries down. He just had to be there, to see you were real, not just a magical voice on his phone.

He walked up to the cafe. There was no doubt to who you were because he heard your voice unobstructed by a telephone connection. You were sitting at a table on the sidewalk, a laptop open in front of you beside a cup of coffee.

You were talking into the phone.

“I know. I have to go. I’ll speak to you later. Bye!” you said.

The way your looks fit your voice so perfectly, anyone he’d imagined to be you immediately disappeared from his mind. He was mesmerized by the sight of you.

Pedro realized he’d been standing there staring down at you when you gave him an expectant look. His mouth felt dry. He could barely breathe.

“Hello?” you asked. The first word he’d heard from you on the phone.

“Hi,” was all he could manage.

Your cheeks turned red.

“It’s me. Pedro. From the phone,” he said.

Your lips parted and you tilted your head.

“Pedro?” you repeated. You looked him up and down.

He nodded.

Both of your phones started to ring at the same time. Pedro was still too transfix to even look at the screen.

“Hello?” you asked into your phone.

You frowned.

“Why do you keep calling me!?”

Pedro’s stomach dropped. He answered the call on his phone.

“Pedro, where are you?” It was you. You sounded bubbly and eager.

“What? I’m right here,” he said.

“I don’t see you. I’m sitting out front,” you said.

Pedro looked around. There weren’t any other customers at the cafe. His eyes fell back on you and you looked up at him with confusion, your eyes shifting nervously. Your phone was sitting on the table.

He swallowed.

“I think I have to call you back,” he said.

--- PART 2

taglist: @mouthymandalorian @221bshrlocked @purplepascal042 @pedro-pastel @starlightmornings

#sorry for the feelings #also did not expect to come home so late wtf #terrifying science fiction but make it romance #pedro across the street #pedro across the street x you #calls #calls fic #pedro pascal fic #pedro across the street fic

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rafecameron · 4 years

Text

dance with me

summary: luke decides to step in and stop y/n’s friends from teasing her about never having a boyfriend. this leads to fake dates and real feelings.

pairing: luke patterson x reader

word count: 5.5k

warnings: fake dating, alcohol mentions

a/n: my second luke fic which took me way too long to finish because motivation deserted me. Gif is mine :)

It wasn’t a new feeling to feel somewhat left out and like a spare part. Y/N was more than used to her friends chatting away beside her like she wasn’t even in the room. She was sure it should have bothered her more than it did. Countless times people had asked why she put up with it, and the answer was always simple. Because they were her friends, at least one of them was. Yes the other two weren’t the greatest friends, she could at least admit to that. But she had known Jessica her whole life and now they were kind of part of the package, it was easier to be with them. And if she was being honest with herself she liked to sit on the outskirts, only listening in and never participating.

She wasn’t much of a talker. She enjoyed people watching and listening to her friends gossip, she could think of nothing worse than having attention on herself. Plus, if her friends were ignoring her it meant they weren’t pestering her about her love life. And that was something Y/N was more than thankful for. It started out harmless when they were younger. She was the last of her friends to hold a boy's hand. The last one to share a kiss. The last one to have a boyfriend (of course, because she still hadn’t). They had teased her about it.

“Oh, Y/N, why do you never go out? Why do you never have fun?”

“Don’t you want a boyfriend?”

“Please let us try and hook you up!”

But the meaningful pestering had slowly turned to more hurtful taunts.

“You’re so boring Y/N, you really need to lighten up!”

“You’ll never find a boyfriend if you don’t live a little!”

“Are you sure you want to come to the party? Everyone has a date, you’ll be alone like usual.”

She tried not to let it bother her. Rolling her eyes and shaking off her friends comments. She convinced herself she was fine on her own. She didn’t want a boyfriend and she certainly didn’t need one. She had considered finding one just to shut them up, but she couldn’t imagine dating someone just for the sake of it. She was old fashioned. She believed you should love wholeheartedly with everything in you. You should love truly and fiercely and definitely not give yourself away just to be included.

Y/N had seen her friends jump from one boy to the next, some not lasting more than a week. She didn’t want that. She would rather be seen as boring than throw herself at boys just for attention. She knew she had nothing in common with her friends and she also knew people wondered why they even hung out with her. But her friends were popular. And it was easier to be in the popular crowd and ignored than it was to be in the shadows and picked on.

It was near the end of lunch time when her friends finally noticed her again. Jessica was leaning against her locker, eyes locked on her compact mirror as she applied another layer of pink lipstick.

“You haven’t forgotten about my party this weekend, have you Y/N?” She asks before pursing her lips at her reflection.

Jessica was the girl Y/N had known the longest. She could stand Jessica. When they weren’t around everyone else she was back to being the girl she’d met when they were seven. Giddy and excitable, not caring what she looked like. But in public she put on the image of the perfect princess, and she definitely played it well.

“It’s your birthday Jessica, how could I forget?” She rolls her eyes with a smile gracing her lips.

Jessica snaps her mirror shut and forms her pink lips into a dazzling smile, “So you’ll be there?”

“Of course I’ll be there.” She agrees with a nod, she would call Jessica her best friend, she wouldn’t miss her birthday party for anything.

“Are you bringing someone?” Jasmine asks, her perfectly trimmed brow quirking up with her question, “We wouldn’t want you standing on your own in the corner like last time.” She smiles, tight lipped and fake as she waits for a reply.

She opens her mouth slightly, considering for a moment if it was a good idea to lie and say she was bringing someone, just to wipe the smug look from Jasmine's face. But before she can decide if that is a good idea or a train wreck waiting to happen a voice speaks up.

“Of course not,” Amber giggles, “Have you ever had a date before, Y/N?” Amber tilts her head, a smile just as fake as jasmines setting on her lips.

“No, but that’s okay,I don’t revolve my self worth around boys' attention.” She returns Amber's smile.

“That’s good! Because you don’t get any!” Amber retorts back with a laugh.

“Amber-“ Jessica begins to scold her friend but is cut off before she can begin.

“Hey, Y/N.” A voice from behind her catches everyone’s attention.

Jessica raises a brow at the boy behind her friend as she turns to see who exactly was greeting her.

“Oh, hi, Luke.” Y/N replies, her hand coming up in a small wave, she cringes at her own awkwardness.

“I just wanted to make sure we’re still on for tonight,” the boy smiles at her and she can’t help but forrow her brows.

She knows Luke from a couple of her classes but she can’t say she’s ever said more than a few words to the boy. Her memory wasn’t amazing but she was pretty sure she hadn’t made any sort of plans with the boy, he was practically a stranger after all.

“Uh, I-“ she begins to tell him that she has no clue what he’s talking about but he cuts her off again as if he knows what she will say.

“I know I said I wasn’t sure what we should do, but I was thinking we could catch a movie?” Luke raises both of his brows at the girl in front of her, willing her to just go along with it.

And if Y/N has learnt anything from her many years people watching she knows how to read signs, something finally clicking in her head as she quickly nods.

“Right!” She smiles, “Yes, a movie that sounds great! Is seven still good?”

Luke nods, a grin appearing on his face, “Seven, yeah, see you then.” He sends her a last nod before burying his hands into his pockets and turning away, feeling pretty pleased with himself.

Y/N turns back to her friends feeling extremely confused but determined not to show it. Amber and Jasmine look somewhat annoyed but Jessica is practically bursting with excitement.

“Y/N!” She squeals and grabs her shoulders, “Why didn’t you say you had a date with that cute boy?” She shakes her friend for an answer.

The girl laughs, prying her friends hands from her shoulders, “I guess it slipped my mind.” She offers with a shrug.

“Slipped your mind?” Jessica she is sure is about to reprimand her but her scolding is cut off by the ringing off the bell, “I want all the details!” She finishes instead.

She sends her friend one last grin before grabbing onto Amber and Jasmine and pulling them down the hall while Y/N turns the opposite way and heads to literature. She couldn’t honestly say why Luke had come over to them but she was glad he had. The looks on her friends' faces when they thought she had a date was the best thing to happen to her in a long time.

She took her seat in the classroom, the room already almost full of students. The seat next to her was taken up by the boy who had stood in front of her just moments before.

“Hey,” she greets as she opens up her notebook, “What was all that about?” She asks.

Luke looks over to her, his desk empty of anything except a blunt pencil which he was rolling around with a finger. He shrugs, smiling as he meets her eyes.

“I guess I got sick of your friends always making fun of you for not having a boyfriend.” He replies like it’s nothing.

“Wait, you know about that?” She asks, a soft laugh leaving her lips, “I never realised people noticed.”

Luke nods, “I notice a lot of things. It’s not right, friends shouldn’t put each other down. I hate seeing it, so I thought I’d wipe the smirks off their faces. Thanks for going along with it.”

She offers him a genuine smile, “I nearly didn’t, I was so confused!” She admits causing him to laugh, “But thank you.”

He opens his mouth to reply but the late bell sounds and the teacher shuts the door bringing the class to silence. So instead he sends her one last smile before averting his eyes out of the window, his finger still pushing the pencil he’d stolen from Reggie around his desk.

The hour dragged by slowly. She didn’t mind this class most of the time but she couldn’t get her mind to focus on the poem they were supposed to be dissecting. If there was one thing she could never grasp it was poetry. She found it beautiful and clever, but she couldn’t tell you what most of it meant. So when the bell finally rang to signal the end of the lesson she let out a sigh of relief and snapped her notebook closed.

“Not like poetry?” Luke asks with a laugh at her slightly dishevelled look after running her hands through her hair.

“If my life depended on understanding poetry I’d have been dead a long time ago.” She admits, and then frowns at the awkwardness of being death up in a conversation.

“Well, it’s a good thing it doesn’t then.” Luke grins as he follows her out of the glass room.

The pair don’t get two steps away from the door before they are bombarded by a blonde in a pink dress.

“Why haven’t you replied to my text?” Jessica stresses, reaching out and grabbing Luke by the shirt as he tries to slip past her, “Are you bringing your new date to my party?” She deposits Luke back by Y/N’s side and looks at the pair expectantly.

“Oh! Uh, well I hadn’t actually brought it up yet.” She offers with a shrug.

“Well then you’re lucky I brought it up for you!” Jessica grins, “It’s on Saturday at nine, my house. I’ll see you there!” She waves to Luke before disappearing in the crowd of people.

Luke and Y/N share a look, one full of confusion, hopefulness and a tinge of awkwardness.

“Guess I’m your date to a party?” Luke asks with a soft chuckle, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

Y/N quickly shakes her head, “No! No please don’t feel the need, I’ll just make something up.”

“So you don’t want me to go?” Luke asks holding a hand up to his heart, “I’m slightly offended.”

“I mean…” she bites her lower lip, looking around the hallway desperate for an escape which never came, “I just meant, it’s not necessary.”

Luke laughs, “I’m only messing with you,” he reaches out and taps her arm lightly, “But uh, i'll go, if you want. I kind of want to mess with your friends a little more.” He admits.

She raises a brow and laughs a little, “Like, fake date?” She asks, laughing again when Luke nods. She knows she should say no, roll her eyes and push him away, but the memory of Amber and Jasmines faces from earlier flashed back into her mind. This opportunity was too good to pass up on, it’s not like she was throwing herself at boys like she promised herself she wouldn’t, it’s all fake. And what’s the harm in fake dating a cute boy?

“Okay,” she nods, “Fake boyfriend, i'll see you there.”

------

The more she thought about it the more she was convinced she was crazy. Fake dating someone was one thing, but fake dating someone she’d never even held a conversation with? That was off the spectrum of crazy. How was she supposed to convince her friends that she was actually dating someone who she knew nothing about? What if they actually had nothing in common? What if when they finally do hang out they can’t stand each other? She supposed they could just fake break up just as convincingly as they fake got together. And she decided that was probably the best option. Break it off now before it got too out of hand for everyone involved. It was what she fully intended on doing. Her speech was already planned out and rehearsed multiple times on the walk to Jessica’s party.

She was going to walk up to him, look him straight in the eye and tell him it was a crazy idea and they needed to stop. She didn’t have time for a real boyfriend let alone a fake one and she didn’t want anyone to get hurt. But as she rounded the corner and saw the boy waiting for her the plan fizzled out of her thoughts immediately and she found herself skipping over to him with a grin.

“Don’t you scrub up nicely.” She comments, tugging playfully on his shirt.

He had forgone his usual slogan tees with ripped sleeves and dressed in a plain black T-shirt and jeans, a plaid shirt thrown on the top which she was sure she’d seen a friend of his wearing the week before.

Luke shrugs looking almost bashful for a second, “I didn’t want to stand out and show you up. You look nice.” He adds, finally looking her up and down.

She’d chosen a simple dress, dark blue in colour and stopping just above the knee, “Yeah well, I didn’t want to show you up.” She teases with a nudge of her elbow.

“I guess we should get this awful evening over with then?” Luke jokes, offering his arm to her to link hers through which she does instantly.

The party was already in full swing when they walked through the doors, her friends drunk to the point of not caring about her arrival which she was more than pleased about.

“I don’t really drink.” She comments as she grabs a can of cola from the table, Luke helps himself to one after.

“Me neither.” He smiles, “I’d rather know what I’m doing...And not look like an idiot.” He leans up to look over her shoulder at the girl stumbling around in her heels like bambi on ice.

She looks over her shoulder, letting out a laugh at the sight before turning back, “You mean you don’t want to look like that?” She grins and grabs onto his arm, “C’mon, there's nothing more annoying than drunk people.”

She leads him outside, pulling him down onto a bench beside her. The backyard was quieter than inside the house, fewer drunk people shouting and laughing and mostly just people chilling out.

“Honestly, I don’t really like parties.” Luke comments, taking a sip from his can, “I’d much rather hang out with some friends and chill.”

Y/N nods her head in agreement, “Same, but unfortunately my friends are the ones who throw all the parties.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way but, why are you friends with them?” Luke looks over to her and raises an eyebrow in question, “You don’t really seem to fit with them.”

“Jessica’s my best friend, the others...Well, they’re friends with Jess so I guess I have to put up with them.” She shrugs, averting her gaze from his intense stare and looking down at her can in her hands.

“Yeah but you don’t have to put up with them being bitches to you.” Luke comments.

She lets out a laugh, leaning her head back against the bench and looking over to him, “It’s not that bad. It’s either that or sitting on my own everyday. And I’ve never heard you swear before.”

“Y/N! Luke!” Jessica practically screams their names, stumbling through the patio doors and pulling her nights catch along behind her, “I’m so glad you came! Together!”

She leans down pulling her into a clumsy hug, almost knocking Luke out with her elbow as she pulls back.

“So! This is getting pretty serious, huh?” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at her friend causing her to laugh.

“Jess, it’s been three days.” She giggles, she feels Luke's hand grab hers and allows him to intertwine their fingers, “Three great days.” She adds on with a grin she was sure was the definition of cheesy.

“I’m so happy for you!” Jessica pouts grabbing onto her friends spare hand, “I guess this means you’ll be going to the dance together?” She gasps, the grin on her face radiating excitement.

“Uh,” She looks over at Luke expectantly, eyebrows raised in question.

“We wouldn’t miss it.” Luke answers for them, squeezing her hand and shooting Jess a smile.

Jess lets out a squeal before the boy attached to her hand begins to tug her back inside complaining that it's cold. She rolls her eyes and mouths an apology before disappearing back into the throng of people inside.

“We don’t really have to go.” She begins to say quickly but Luke jumps up and pulls her with him by her hand.

“I don’t mind. And uh, as much as I dislike parties, we’re not going to annoy your friends if we sit out here all night.” He shoots her a cheeky grin before dragging her into the mass of the party.

They discard their empty cans on the kitchen table and head to the living room which has been turned into a makeshift dance area. The room was packed and Y/N already felt nervous about the idea of dancing and being surrounded by so many people.

“I can’t really dance.” She laughs, stopping in the midst of the drunk dancers.

“It’s not proper dancing,” Luke shrugs, he grabs ahold of her waist and pulls her into him, their chests pressing together as his arms snake around her back, “And your friends are watching.”

He smirks as she averts her eyes to the left, Amber and Jasmine watching their every move with matching scowls causing her to giggle. She lifts her hands and rests them against Luke’s chest, letting him move her along to the pop song which was playing too loudly.

“I don’t think we fit in.” She mentions, watching the couples around her grind against each other.

Luke laughs, “Well if you want to fit in.” He quickly spins her around, pulling her back so her back is pressed against his chest, “We can dance like this.” He whispers into her ear as his hands rest against her hips.

She feels her face heat up and lets out a laugh hoping to cover it up, “I guess this is more believable, but I’m not doing that!” She motions with her head towards the couple beside them who were grinding aggressively against each other.

“Deal.” Luke laughs against her cheek as he slides his arms fully around her waist.

Dancing with Luke for the whole night was not as torturous as she had expected it to be. They talked, at least as well as they could with the loud music. She found she got on with Luke quite well which she hadn’t expected. He was funny and sweet, his usual rugged appearance not one which matched his personality at all. When they finally decided to leave the party he offered to walk her home and she agreed. Their intertwined hands splitting apart once they were far enough away from the party to not be seen.

“It’s weird, having a fake boyfriend.” She comments, looking up to the night sky, the stars barely shining through the group of clouds overhead, “I almost like it. Like having a boyfriend but minus all the drama.”

“I thought you’d never had a boyfriend.” Luke laughs.

She shrugs and looks over to him, “From what I’ve seen with my friends I’m not sure I ever want a real one.”

“Well I’m glad I make an acceptable fake boyfriend.” Luke nudges her with his shoulder eliciting a laugh from her.

------

The following week at school was full of preparations for the dance, Y/N feeling more excited about it than she ever had before. This time she would actually be going with someone! Fake or not, it was still a lot more exciting than standing around alone for the whole night. She’d also spent the week getting to know Luke more. They were ‘dating’ after all so they had to hang out in public to make it look at all believable. He spent a lunch with her and her friends, but she didn’t blame him for hating every minute of it. Amber and Jasmine weren’t nice to her and they definitely weren’t nice to him.

She spent most of her lunches with him and his friends, having much more fun than she’d like to admit. She watched them rehearse, half of it actual rehearsing half of it messing around. She liked Luke’s friends and even started feeling a little bad about lying to them when Alex said how happy he was they were happy together. She found she got on with Reggie the best. He was silly and it was a nice change of pace to her own friends to be around someone who didn’t care what anyone thought.

She was also getting used to the physical touches, maybe too used to it. She noticed that Luke was a touchy person, he was always wrapping his arms around his friends shoulders and nudging them and that didn’t stop when it got to her. She now wasn’t sure if it was because of the fake relationship or because he really was like that with everyone. But she found she didn’t mind. She quite liked when he would hold her hand in the hallways or throw his arm over her shoulders when they were sat somewhere. She had to keep reminding herself that he only meant it in a friendly way.

Friday came around quickly and she took the day off from hanging out with like to spend time decorating with Jess, something they always helped out with for every dance.

“What colours your dress? Is Luke getting a matching tie?” Jessica asks as she helps her hang a banner from the ceiling.

Y/N was sat atop Jessica's shoulders struggling to secure the string to the ceiling, they knew they would get told off if a teacher saw them like this but neither could be bothered to go and find the ladders so they had to make do.

“I was thinking either blue or green,” She comments, her words muffled around the extra string in her mouth, “And I hadn’t even thought about ties.”

“He has to be matching! Otherwise you will look odd!” Jess complains.

She had always been way more invested in fashion than Y/N ever had, she didn’t really see the harm in Luke’s tie not matching her dress, but also knew Jess wouldn’t let it go.

“I’ll talk to him.” She mumbles out, letting out a cheer when she finally gets the banner to stick.

As she climbed down from Jessica’s shoulders she was met with a pair of blue eyes, her friend quickly slinking away behind her.

“Hey Y/N, can I talk to you for a sec?” Jason asks.

She chews on her bottom lip, silently scolding her friend for abandoning her, “Yeah, sure.” She offers a smile.

“I was just wondering if you’d want to go to the dance with me? I know it’s a little last minute but…” Jason rubs the back of his neck with his hand, sending her an awkward shrug.

“Oh! Uhm…” She pauses for a moment at a complete loss for an answer. She was supposed to be going with Luke. But that wasn’t real, whereas this could actually lead to something, she was sure Luke would understand if she cancelled with him, she knew he never usually went to dances anyway.

But as she looked up to answer her eyes landed on the figure walking down the hallway towards them, Luke shot her a smile and raised his brows at the boy in front of her and she thought about how she felt when she was with him. Fake dating or not, Luke was her friend now, and friends didn’t cancel on each other last minute.

“I’m sorry Jason, I’m already going with someone. But thanks for asking me.” She offers him her kindest smile.

“No worries, I thought it was a long shot being this late.” He shrugs again and bids her goodbye before disappearing around the corner.

“What was all that about?” Luke asks, leaning against the locker in front of her with a curious look in his eyes.

“He asked me to the dance.” She answers.

“And?” Luke prompts.

“And I said no.” She laughs.

“You did?” Luke doesn’t try to hide the grin that appeared on his face, “Why would you say no? To an actual date, instead of a fake one?”

“I don’t know.” She fiddles with the bottom of her jacket, pulling it tighter around her, “I considered it, but it didn’t feel right, I didn’t want to cancel on you.”

“Well I’m flattered.” Luke laughs, “I was actually looking for you, what colour dress are you wearing? Jess just shouted at me about ties.”

She just rolls her eyes and links her arm through Lukes to pull him down the hallway.

------

Y/N paces on her front porch as she waits for Luke to turn up, part of her dress skirt scrunched in her hand to prevent her from stepping on it and tripping over. She had never felt so nervous before. She had to keep reminding herself that this is a fake date. Luke doesn’t actually like her and she’s sure the feelings she's starting to get are just results of faking sed feelings in public.

“Why are you out here?” Luke’s voice cuts through her worrying thoughts and she turns to him with a smile.

“My mum was bugging me about pictures. I thought it was safer out here.” She laughs, biting her lower lip at the sight of Luke stood on her porch, his suit fitting his body perfectly and his tie an exact match to the green of her dress.

“You look amazing.” Luke breathes out in awe, he holds his hand out to her and she gladly accepts it and lets him lead her down the steps.

“So do you.” She replies quietly.

The ride to the school is quiet but she’s acutely aware of Luke’s eyes flickering over to her during the drive. She doesn’t comment on it but the butterflies in her stomach go wild at every glance.

“Did you help put this together?” Luke asks as they enter the hall.

The hall was decorated with blue and silver giving it a wintery feel, balloons and streamers around the outskirts and hanging from the ceiling.

She shrugs, “I guess. Jess did most of it, I just helped.”

“Well it looks great.” He compliments.

They stand in the doorway sharing a glance before looking around the room, “So, I don’t usually come to these. What do we do now? I thought people would be dancing.”

She laughs and slaps his chest lightly, “People won't be dancing till later, once the punch has been spiked.” she grins and takes hold of his hand to lead him to one of the tables around the edge of the dancefloor.

“I’ll admit, I’m surprised this is still a thing.” Jasmine comments as she sits opposite them, “Are you not bored yet?” She directs her question to Luke who shoots her a glare.

“Why would I be bored? She’s the most interesting girl I’ve ever met, she's actually real.” He comments back playing with her fingers in his.

Jasmine lets out a laugh, eyebrows raised as she lifts her drink to her lips as if she thought Luke was crazy, which she probably did.

“Where’s your date?” Luke asks.

Jasmine’s glass hits the table with a glare, “I’d rather be dateless than have whatever this is.” She points between the two before standing up and stomping off.

“Sounds like jealousy!” Luke calls after her and Y/N erupts into a fit of giggles beside him.

“I think she hates you more than she does me.” She laughs leaning into Lukes side.

The hall soon began to fill up with students, couples slowly making their way onto the dancefloor as the dance fully started. She had spotted Jessica and sent her a wave as the girl made her way to the dancefloor where she would stay for the entire night. Y/N wasn’t sure how to dance and she would take a wild guess that Luke didn’t know either, this didn’t seem like his kind of scene.

“Do you want to dance?” Luke asks as though reading her thoughts.

“You want to?” She responds.

“I can try.” He laughs and stands up motioning for her to join him, “Can’t come to a dance with an actual date and not have at least one dance.” Her cheeks heat up at the comment about it being an actual date, not sure if Luke meant it or if it was just a slip of the tongue, she didn’t point it out.

His hand finds hers as they walk to the dancefloor, finding a spot in the middle which she was thankful for, less likely people will see them there. Luke's arms wrapped around her waist and hers went around his shoulders, much like at the party except their movements were slower.

“Is this right.” He asks and she lets out a soft laugh.

“No idea, but it feels good to me.” She hesitates for a moment before leaning forward and resting her cheek against his chest.

The stay pressed together for the next two songs in a comfortable silence before she decides to break it.

“Why are people staring at us?” She asks.

Luke hadn’t noticed but looks around at her question and notices a few eyes on them, he shrugs, “Because we’re the best looking couple here?”

She laughs and slaps his arm, pulling her head away from his chest, “I’m serious! It’s making me nervous.”

Luke sighs and squeezes her waist lightly, “I have no idea. Maybe people are just surprised to see us here together.”

She considers it for a moment before finally nodding her head, “Yeah, that’s probably it.”

Luke watches her look around anxiously for another moment before he squeezes her sides again to bring her attention back to him.

“I know we haven’t been here long, but I think we’ve made our point, do you wanna get out of here?” he smiles down at her and she doesn’t have to think twice about nodding her head.

Once out of the building Y/N lets out a sigh of relief, “I didn’t realise how claustrophobic I felt in there.” She breathes out.

“Yeah, it’s tough work being surrounded by people like that.” Luke agrees, “I’d much rather hang out just us two.”

Luke drove them away from the school and to a park, the street lamps illuminating the play area which he led her to. They sat down on the swing set, both angled towards each other as they swayed back and forth slowly. They talked about anything they could think of; family, Luke’s band, memories, movies, music. They talked for what felt like hours before Luke jumped off his swing and held his hand out to her.

“What?” She asks as he leads her to a clear area.

“Well, we’re supposed to be at a dance right? So dance with me again.” He pulls her into his arms as she laughs at him.

“There’s no music.” She comments and he just shrugs.

“I was thinking,” He begins, looking around nervously as he bites his lower lip, “When you’re finished with me being your fake boyfriend, maybe you could let me take you on a real date?”

She felt her cheeks heat up a little bit and didn’t hide the smile growing on her face, “Well, maybe I’m done with you being my fake boyfriend now.”

Luke’s face lights up, his eyes finding hers again and looking a lot less nervous, “Yeah? So you wouldn’t mind if I did this then?” He asks.

He leans forward, his lips grazing across hers lightly before pulling her into a kiss. She felt like the world around her had stopped, the only thing indicating she hadn’t died and gone to heaven was the rapid beating of her heart. When he pulled away she pouted up at him.

“I only mind that you pulled away.” She replies, his smile being covered by her lips again as she pulled him close to her.

They stayed kissing and swaying in the silence until Luke finally said he should take her home. They planned their first real date for the next morning, because neither of them could wait longer than that.

tags: @rudyypankow @chrlsgillespie @crybabyddl @lovesanimals @marinettepotterandplagg @alexpjoyner

#luke patterson x reader #luke patterson fic #luke patterson imagine #jatp x reader #my writing

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all-my-love-for-harry · 4 years

Text

Sing me my song.

summary: Harry’s feeling insecure after he sees his girlfriend interact with her ex.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: fluff with some angst, happy ending tho.

a/n: this was requested by @hazzalightsupmyworld, hope you like it! Let me know what you think :)

Find the rest of my masterlist here.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

Relationship wise, Y/N has never been one with luck. She has never had the ability to jump from one relationship to other, it just wasn’t who she was. Instead, she spent several years being in love with the same person.

Ariana and Y/N met after they shared a studio session back in 2015. They wrote some songs together for Ariana’s upcoming album at that time. It took them two months and several cups of coffee to fall in love. Their relationship was mostly private, as neither of them wanted curious eyes all over their every move. Of course the media eventually caught up the two women weren’t just friends, but were romantically involved and after Ariana’s album dropped, it looked pretty serious.

However timing just wasn’t on their side, and for different reasons, they ended up going separate ways. Although that didn’t stop them from remaining friends, Y/N was still in love with her ex-girlfriend. She stayed there through tough times and not even once not dropped everything if Ariana called.

It was some time after their breakup when they found their way back to each other. They thought it was only fair to give it another shot, but it just didn’t work out. They both wanted different things and together came to the conclusion they were better off as friends, so Y/N and Ariana called it quits before they hurt the other bad enough they wouldn’t be able to be friends in the future.

For a lot of time, Y/N thought she wouldn’t be able to fall in love again, or at least have a somehow serious relationship with someone else. It took her time, but eventually she got there. With every day that passed, it got easier to move on.

And that’s when she met Harry.

A kind, shy man who has shown her a completely different side of the world, one that she was completely oblivious of before he came into her life. Although Harry was sure since the beginning about his feelings for her, it took Y/N a little while to open up to him and allow him to take her on a date. Sure, they hung out and stuff, but it was always with other people around in a friendly environment. Now there was nothing wrong with that, but Harry wanted more.

Almost a year after they first met, Harry and Y/N finally started dating. Things were great between the two of them. They both felt like there was something very… real in what they had. Quite frankly, they had never felt like this before. It truly felt like they were building a life together that could easily become a forever thing, and even though for some people it could be scary, for them it wasn’t. It felt good to have something stable after a long time of trying to find something that felt completely real and honest.

It wasn’t until Y/N felt like she was 100% over Ariana that they started talking again. Of course, they had missed each other but they both agreed it wouldn’t be so healthy to try to move on without putting some sort of distance between them. For them, it was so easy to become close friends again. It was like the old times, just with a few boundaries they had agreed on.

Last time Y/N saw her, was on Ariana’s first show of her tour. She had gone to support her, however she did not join her on tour like last time. And it was fine, honestly. Y/N felt like her life was complete now that she had her boyfriend and her best friend in it.

Now Y/N found herself spending more time in London with Harry than anywhere else in the world. And it was slowly starting to become her second home.

Around August, after taking a shower before getting ready to go out with Harry, Y/N received a text. It was from Ariana, she was inviting her to her next concert in London that was in a few days. Y/N bit her lip, thinking what it was best to do. Honestly? She wanted to go. It would be really nice to go see her perform after a few months of not seeing each other, and she could always bring Harry so he’d have a good time too.

“Babe, are you ready? Reservation’s at seven o’clock.” Harry came out of their walk-in closet with his clothes on his hands.

“Yeah, one second.” Y/N sent Ariana a quick text saying she’d ask Harry before looking up at him. “Hey, do you want to go to a concert this weekend?”

“Sure, who are we seeing?”

“Ariana.”

Now, Harry knew their story and how big of a roll Ariana was on his girlfriend’s life, and although it made him insecure at times (not that he’d ever say a word to her about it), he has come to accept that. Also, it wasn’t like Ariana was a stranger to him. They were also friends, just never been really close.

“I mean, I’m down. It’ll be fun if we go.” He shrugged, deciding it shouldn’t have to be a big deal.

“Awesome. I’ll tell her we’re going.” She smiled.

Inside of his head, Harry tried to convince himself they’d have a good time, and everything was going to be fine, although he wasn’t feeling so confident at the moment.

Saturday rolled in and all Y/N could talk about was the concert. She planned an outfit along with hair and makeup that with go along with her clothes. She was excited but also a little nervous. They’d most likely go backstage after the show, and it would be the first time the three of them would be together in the same room.

Harry has called a car that would drive them to the O2 Arena. Unfortunately, they ran a little late due traffic so when they arrived, they had to take her seats in the VIP box immediately because the show was about to start. Harry wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder as they stood there waiting. Now, normally he wouldn’t be anywhere touchy with her if they were in public, but he was feeling particularly clingy today so he didn’t care if tomorrow there would be a billion of pictures of the two of them all over the internet.

The lights when out and the music started, making the twenty thousand people in the arena erupt in screams.

Aside from the two of them, there were other people in the VIP box. A couple of Ariana’s friends Y/N knew and some celebrities.

So far they were having a good time. Harry let loose a little and started dancing with Y/N too. He screamed the lyrics he knew and jumped around just like everyone else. After the fourth song passed, the energy lowered a little as a slower song came into the set list.

Y/N swallowed hard when she recognized the melody. R.E.M. was a song Ariana told her a long ago was written about Y/N a little before they broke up for the second time. In complete honesty, she loved the song. She loved it when Ariana showed it to her that night they stayed up until 2am just talking, long before it was out to the world, and she loved it now that she was hearing it along with twenty thousand people.

It brought a lot of memories back and the song that followed did not help.

Harry noticed her sudden change of behavior but chose to not point it out. Instead, he gave her hand a squeeze that quickly snapped her back to reality. She looked up at him and smiled, leaning into him a little.

Songs like Moonlight, Sometimes or Thinking Bout You, Y/N knew weren’t on the original set list of the concert. They were old songs Ariana didn’t really sing anymore, mainly because they were about her, and she was singing them now.

It only made her more nervous to step into backstage after the concert. And it wasn’t about any lingering feelings, truly. It just was kind of a lot to take in. She was in love with the woman for a long time, for the love of God.

One song before the concert ended, they decided to head backstage to avoid the crowd afterwards. Someone from the security team leaded the way to them and some other people who had the same idea and they waited patiently for the show to end.

“Did you have a good time?” She asked him.

“I did, haven’t danced like that in quite some time.”

“Me too.”

The couple held hands and stayed a little behind. There were people everywhere, both from the staff and friends that were hanging around. They heard Ariana say her goodbyes to the public before she ran off the stage. People rounded her to congratulate her for the show, she went around giving hugs to everybody until her eyes landed in Y/N.

Both girls squealed and crashed into a hug. “You’re here!”

“I promised I’d come, Ari.” Y/N said sweetly.

“I’m so happy you did. I changed the set list after you texted me.” Ariana gave her a dimpled smile, looking directly at her eyes.

“So I noticed.”

Harry caught awkwardly, not really knowing what to do with himself. Ariana and Y/N broke the eye contact as the first one went and hugged Harry. “Thank you for coming, Har.”

“Thank you for the invitation. We had a great time.” He didn’t really mean to, but subconsciously he emphasized the we.

“I’m happy you did.” She said. “I was thinking we could have dinner afterwards. Courtney’s also here somewhere.”

“Absolutely.” Y/N was quick to answer.

“Great, let me take a shower and grab my shit before we go.” Ariana walked away towards her dressing room.

“Do we have to go?” Harry almost whined.

“C’mon, it would be fun. Please?” She gave him those damn puppy eyes she knew he couldn’t resist. So he sighed and nodded, making her squeal. Y/N hugged him before she gave him a quick peck on the lips. “We won’t stay so long, I promise.”

Although he agreed on going, Harry kept quiet for most part of the dinner. Ariana and Y/N sat in front of the other so they were talking the whole time, giggling about things Harry did not understand as they were inside jokes they had. He did not feel comfortable at all by the end of the night, and it didn’t help the fact that Y/N was not acknowledging him.

“You need a ride home?” Ariana asked after dinner was paid and everyone was starting to get up from their seats.

Y/N was about to speak but Harry cut her off. “I have called a car, thank you though.” He didn’t want to sound rude, but he didn’t think he could stand a whole car ride with them probably seating next to each other giggling and whispering things.

“Oh, alright.” Ariana answered slowly. “I’ll be in London until next week, maybe we can meet up?” She said to Y/N.

“Totally, I’ll text you.”

The pair hugged tightly. Ariana waved at Harry a little awkwardly as she has already sensed his jealousy building up.

“Have you really called a car?” Y/N asked when it was only the two of them.

“Are you talking to me now?” He couldn’t help but say. He has in fact called a car, he did it the second they asked for the check. Y/N sighed, not really wanting to start anything while they were still in public.

Not long after that, a black range rover pulled up and they walked towards it to get in. This time, Y/N didn’t seat in the middle to be close to Harry. Instead, each of them sat by each end of the seat. The ride back to the house was quiet, none of them had really nothing to say to the other, but they were also gathering their thoughts because they knew what was going to go down once they entered the house.

The both of them thanked the driver before getting out of the car and into the house. Y/N took off her shoes and walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water, Harry following her steps.

“Are you going to tell me what is wrong?” She asked.

“I don’t know. Is there anything wrong?”

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t be like that.” She crossed her arms. “There’s something bothering you and I want to know what it is. Did you not have a good time?”

“I was until you started flirting with your bloody ex.” He finally said.

“Flirting? Harry, I was not flirting with her.”

“Yes, you were. And she was flirting with you too!” He accused. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how she was looking at you!”

“According to you, how was she looking at me?”

“Like she was still in love with you! Didn’t you see? She basically serenaded you back in the concert and had no problem admitting it. ‘I included these songs only because you told me you were coming’” He tried to copy her voice. “For fuck’s sake.”

“Well, I can exactly control what songs she includes in her show!”

“Oh, but you clearly enjoyed it, didn’t you? Must have felt good to have all her attention.”

“Now you’re being mean.” She said.

“No, I’m being honest. And I’m sorry if it makes me mad when your ex is all over you!”

“She was-”

“And you can’t even see it. Can’t you see how fucking insecure it makes me feel whenever you talk so highly of her? How am I supposed to top what you had with her?”

Y/N swallowed hard. “It is not a competition, you know? I don’t spend all our time together comparing what we have with what I had with her.”

“For you it might not be. But I do spend a lot of time worrying about you waking up one day and deciding you don’t love me as much as you love her. After all, you have found your way back to each other once, what assures me it won’t happen again?”

“It won’t.” She stated.

“You don’t know that.” He shakes his head. “What if one day you realize you can always go back to her? You’d leave me in a heartbeat.”

“How can you have such little trust in me? I love you, Harry.” Y/N almost cried out. “When my heart was broken, you were the only one there who helped me glue it back together. You. I would have never agreed on going on a date with you if I wasn’t over her.” She paused. “After I met you, I knew I had to get my shit back together so this,” She motioned the space between them. “would work. Because I wanted it to work. You have given me so much,” Her voice broke. “I don’t think I would ever stop loving you.”

“Baby-”

“And I’m sorry if I today I made you doubt that. It wasn’t my intention at all. I was just… I was excited, you know? You have to understand that while I dated Ariana in the past, I’m not in love with her anymore. Do I love her? Yes, I do. But it isn’t the kind of love I have for you, H. What I had with her had an expiration date, and I knew it. But I also know that I want to be with you forever. You’re my forever, not her.”

Harry chocked a laugh, allowing one tear to roll down his left eye. “You’re my forever too, baby.”

“I’m sorry.” She said again before wrapping her arms around his torso. “I love you so, so much. Please believe me.”

“I believe you, I do.” He mumbled before kissing the top of her head, hugging her back. “I’m sorry for being so insecure.”

“I know it isn’t exactly normal to be close with your ex, and i’m still working on setting boundaries.”

“I appreciate that.”

They both sighed happily, enjoying being in each other’s arms. “Do you get as excited as you were today when you listen to the songs I wrote for you?” He asked quietly after a while.

“Just as excited, if not more. I love it when you sing me my song.”

“The one about us dancing in the kitchen or the one about me eating your pu-”

“Way to ruin the moment, Styles.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurbs

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angelmavmurdock · 3 years

Text

Our Little Secret: Part Six - A.R.

Word count: 5976 Summary: After Lenora’s funeral, Arvin learns some news about her. Y/n and Arvin have sex for the first time and ends up being way past her curfew...

WARNINGS: SMUT, FINGERING, DIRTY TALK (mild), READER'S FIRST TIME

I attended Lenora's funeral as her best friend.

No one knew about Arvin and I and we were keeping it for a different reason now. Not in case Lenora found out but to keep everyone else sane in this crazy time.

I had taken a week off school, helping the Russell's around the house with cooking, cleaning and some company. Emma was absolutely distraught, only coming out of bed when she needed the bathroom or needed to eat - even then it wasn't promised.

Ma was so busy with helping Daddy while I was busy helping the Russell's, we hardly got to see each other. But we both knew after the funeral things would calm down.

Arvin was handling his sister's death strangely. He wasn't sad. He didn't cry. He would go out on car rides, asking to be alone a lot of the time. I didn't know what he was doing and to be honest, I didn't want to know.

At night, once Earskell had went to bed and well after Emma had went to bed, we'd stay up, sitting outside on the patio in the old rocking chairs with some tea and listen to the radio quietly humming in the background. We wouldn't really speak much. We'd just be in each other's presence. We'd kiss. Then I'd go home.

But today was her funeral. I had a standard funeral outfit on: a black dress with tights and patent shoes with a black ribbon in my hair. I had been crying all day so my tears stained my cheeks and my eyes were red and puffy.

Emma was much the same as me while Arvin was trying to be strong for us, only a few tears leaving his eyes during the ceremony. He held me close to him, his hand just above the curve of my waist to not draw attention to us. We stood by together as Emma cried over her casket.

"Oh Lord, there's just some things we can't understand..."

She cried, kneeling to the floor and caressing the wood with her soft hands.

"But you take her into your arms..." She had to stop speaking because of her sobs.

I watched, tears falling from my face and I looked up at Arvin, rubbing my hand over his back softly. He stared numbly at the casket, only the ever-so-often squeeze of my waist indicating he was okay.

"Now I ain't somebody for sayin' prayers or..." Earskell talked, coughing and then clenching his jaw.

Arvin looked over to his Uncle and then removed his arm from around me, leaving me feeling cold without him. He slightly bent over and helped Emma to her feet, holding her by her arm and then wrapping his other arm back around me, this time on my waist.

"Let's go home." I said in almost a whisper.

Emma and everyone else nodded. I pulled away from Arvin and when he looked at me I looked back as if to say it was okay. He nodded slightly and helped his Grandma to the truck. I followed loosely behind the three of them, giving them some space to be with each other in the fresh air.

As I walked behind them through the grave yard I thought about everything.

What did she have to tell me? What happened with the preacher? Why was she so ashamed? Why did she want to end her own life?...

There were too many questions and none of them I could answer. I was supposed to be her best friend and I felt like I had let her down. I had let her down.

***

"I think it'll be real good if you went out for a night, Emma." I sighed, sitting next to her on her bed.

It had been a few days since the funeral and she was still lying in bed, only getting up for the bare minimum. Even for food she wasn't getting up for, which I was cooking each night.

"I don't have the energy, y/n." She croaked.

"I think you need a bath. And a nice new dress. And your hair did and your friends around you. There's a church day out at the beach on Saturday. I think you should go." I said with a smile.

She laughed lightly, "Honey, I hardly have five dollars to put together, how am I supposed to buy a new dress and get my hair done?"

A grin grew on my face, "Luckily I am here to help with that."

***

Saturday rolled around and I showed up early morning with two new dresses for Emma. She had gotten her hair done the day before and she was feeling a lot better. She showered and I met her in her room when she came out. I lay the two dresses on the bed and she looked in confusion.

"Pick your favourite and I'll see you in the living room." I smiled simply then left her room, closing the door behind me.

I waited in the living room with Arvin who was reading the newspaper, a cigarette bouncing between his lips and an ash tray.

"Ma asked for me to be home at 9 tonight." I said with a sigh.

Arvin looked up from the paper, "Really? That early?"

"Yeah. She does not like you." I groaned.

"Damn...I'm guessin' there's not much I can do about that, huh?"

"Not really...don't you have work today?" I asked.

"Only a small shift. Just gettin' back into it after the accident and then obviously..." He gulped.

"I know...well that'll be good." I smiled.

"Yeah."

"I'm ready!" Emma called from her bedroom.

"Come on out!" I beamed, getting up from the couch.

She clicked down the hallway in her red kitten heels. I gasped with delight. She chose the poppy patterned dress that flowed lightly below her knees. It fit her perfectly. A silver cross hung over her clavicle and her hair was pinned up nicely.

"Emma Russell, you look absolutely divine!" I grinned.

She blushed, "Really? I do love this dress, I can't thank you enough y/n."

"It's no problem at all. I'm just glad you're feelin' better and havin' fun. You deserve it."

She took a deep breath and smiled, "Thanks, darlin'."

Arvin got up to drive her to the church and he complimented her with an embrace.

"I'll be back around 11pm. It's late but the girls are all hitchin' rides with the men after their poker."

"Well I'll be gone by 9 so I'll see you tomorrow? I hope you have fun, Emma." I hummed, hugging her tightly.

"Thank you so much. Have fun!" She waved as Arvin opened the door for her.

We both watched as she and Earskell talked, going to the truck. Arvin closed the door slightly, leaning forward to me.

I giggled and cupped his face, bringing his lips to mine. It was soft but meaningful. His hands lightly touched my waist before we both pulled away.

"Have a good day at work and drive safe, alright?" I said.

"Thanks, y/n. I'll see you later. Bye." He flashed me a smile before leaving the house.

And I was left for nearly a whole day by myself.

***

Arvin's POV

The working truck pulled up to the car park outside. I jumped off the end along with everyone else and we said our goodbyes. As I headed to the truck I saw an officer standing by, looking at me.

"Need to have a word with you, Arvin." He announced.

"About what?" I asked, standing a few yards from him.

"It's uh...it's about Lenora." He spoke awkwardly.

I took a deep breath and looked away for a second, "What about her?"

"I came by here instead of home so nothin's put on your grandmother-"

"Put on her? What do you mean?" I asked.

The officer removed his uniform hat which is never a good sign. He seemed awkward. He seemed nervous.

"Y'know old Dudley in the coroners? He's a drunk but...he ain't no liar."

I looked at him with a stern look, masking the fact that my stomach was flipping inside.

"Did you know Lenora was carryin' a baby?" He asked.

I tilted my head slightly, my eyes on his. This seemed real. But it couldn't be.

I continued staring at him, hoping he'd crack.

"That's bullshit. That son of a bitch is lyin'." I clenched my jaw.

"Dudley ain't a liar. He came to me privately so as your family knew...I felt he was right." The officer nodded.

I averted eye contact, feeling myself tear up. No, no, no, no, no.

"I might've put my foot in somethin' but that wasn't my intention."

He fiddled with his dark green fedora, uncomfortable with the conversation and uncomfortable with the fact he had to tell me.

"You know that preacher ain't said no words for her? Not for people that kill themselves." I shook my head and clenched my jaw.

That son of a bitch.

***

I drove home in anger and confusion. When I pulled up, I saw y/n outside on one of the rocking chairs, a mug in her hand and a blanket wrapped around her.

My mood lifted almost automatically. She looked gorgeous in the dim sunlight. I remembered the house was empty and I was happy in that y/n and I could spend time together alone but then again, Lenora wasn't there.

I walked tiredly up the steps and she sat her mug down with a pout of her plump lips.

"Hey, you okay?" She asked me, standing up.

I didn't say anything.

"Arvin?" She prompted.

I looked up at her.

"How was work?" She asked, trying to pry something from me.

"It was fine." I shrugged, walking back to lean against the post.

She bit her lip, "Is somethin' botherin' you?"

She knew me too well.

"A uh...a police officer stopped me before goin' home." I said, retrieving a cigarette from my pocket and lighting it.

"What? Why?" She asked, arms folding as she leaned against the opposite post.

I chuckled. It wasn't to be annoying. It was in anger and confusion and disbelief.

"He told me that Lenora - my innocent, God-loving, 17-year-old sister - was pregnant before she died." I stated.

She blinked at me like a deer in headlights. She didn't speak for a few seconds, her brain working to log the information properly.

"She uh...she was p-pregnant? No." She shook her head.

"Well she was." I took a puff.

"What the hell? How did I not know?" She pressed a hand to her chest.

"Don't get mad at me I'm just repeatin' what he said!"

"I'm not mad! I'm just...she was pregnant?"

I licked my lips and nodded.

She chewed her lip in thought, wrinkles forming between her eyebrows.

"I don't believe it. That's bullshit."

"That's what I said. But, apparently some guy down at the coroner's said that she was. And apparently, he don't lie." I said.

She shook her head, "Who...who was the father? Cause he'll be out there right now runnin' free!" She exclaimed.

"I don't know. I have an idea but I don't know." I licked my back teeth.

I couldn't tell her about the preacher. She clearly didn't know and I wasn't about to tell her. Because if I told her I would have to explain how I knew and stalking some guy doesn't seem like the best thing to say.

"Well that is just...wow." She rubbed her face.

"I know."

We both went silent, our heads filled with thought and worry and confusion. How could neither of us had known?

"Are you gonna tell your Grandma?" She asked.

"No. No, I'm not." I dropped the cigarette butt and stood on it.

"I think it would set her back." She agreed.

"Exactly. She don't need that right now, she's at a good place."

y/n nodded, agreeing with me. I sighed and took my hat off, running a hand through my hair. y/n walked towards me with her arms outstretched. I smiled and welcomed her. Her arms wrapped around me tightly, her chest pressed against mine. I leaned my head on top of hers and stroked her back softly.

"We didn't get to tell Lenora." She whispered.

I gulped, "I know..."

"Well if heaven is real then she'll be lookin' down at us thinkin': I told you so."

We both chuckled at the thought. But it was slightly uncomfortable to think of her that way. Dead. In heaven. I didn't like it.

"Hey," She chirped from underneath me.

I moved my head and looked at her. She reached her hands up and wrapped them around my neck.

"You were such a good big brother." She stated.

An immediate lump in my throat formed at her words. Not if you knew the things I had done or what I was planning to do...

"And you're an amazin' person, Arv. You really are." She smiled.

I just smiled weakly at her.

"And I know you feel like you have to be strong all the time but with me...with me you don't have to." She whispered, trailing her hands down then up my chest.

Reader's POV

He stared down at me with a sudden look of lust and hunger. Before I knew it, I was being pushed back against the post, gasping as the wood hit my back. Arvin kissed me ferociously, his tongue pushing into my mouth without missing a beat. I moaned in surprised but sunk into him, getting the fast-paced rhythm he was implementing.

He moved his kisses to my neck and he began to kiss and suck on my sweet spot.

"Arvin," I moaned breathlessly, tugging his hair slightly.

His hands slid down my dress and grabbed my ass through the fabric as his mouth worked on my skin.

"Feels so good." I hummed.

His lips came back up to mine and our tongues worked with each other's, pushing and swirling in some sort of dance. It was passionate and hot and I felt like I needed more of him.

Suddenly his hands roamed further to my thighs and swiftly lifted me up. I gasped as my legs locked around his torso effortlessly. He smirked up at my surprise and kissed me again. He blindly opened the door and it slammed shut behind us. He walked through while kissing me intensely.

And then I knew I was in his room. I had only been in once or twice for laundry but I knew it was his. He pushed me against the door, ultimately closing it. I moaned again and he moved his lips to my neck again.

"Want you, Arvin." I hummed.

He looked up at me with a glint of lust and hope in his eyes.

"You sure?" He asked.

"I need you." I whispered.

That was enough for him.

He brought me off the wall and to his bed, lying me carefully on his sheets, getting on top of me.

He kept kissing me, his hands beginning to lift my dress up. I sat up and allowed him to slide it off my body. Thankfully I was wearing nicer underwear this time. He threw my dress to the side and looked down at my body in awe.

He stood up from the bed, eyes burning through my skin as he started to undo his buttons on his shirt.

I felt a colour rise to my cheeks. He was seeing me in my underwear. No guy had ever seen me in my underwear before.

"You are fuckin' unreal, darlin'." He complimented, his eyes shining with adoration.

I bit my lip, "You're makin' me nervous standin' like that."

He removed his shirt and then pulled off his dirty white t-shirt from underneath. I had seen his chest before but his bruises were nearly healed and he looked even better than before. Probably since he'd been working all day. He undid his belt and then slid down his trousers, stepping out of them.

My jaw dropped. Arvin. In. His. Underwear.

"Whatcha starin' at?" He smirked.

I gulped then looked back up at him, "Nothin' much."

He shook his head and leaped on top of me. I squealed before he kissed me.

"You're a minx, that's what you are." He chuckled against my lips.

"Well then teach me how to be good." I whispered.

He pulled away, looking down at me with his dilated brown eyes, almost completely black with passion.

"Fuck, I want to."

He began to slide his hand down my body, making rest stops at my waist and my hip before teasing the waistband of my pants. I gasped and looked up at him in lust.

"Have you ever been touched before?" He asked lowly.

He slid his hand carefully into my panties. I arched my back and moaned lightly at his touch.

"N-no." I answered honestly.

His eyebrows furrowed for a split-second.

"You've never been touched before? When you look this pretty?" He quirked an eyebrow.

His fingers slowly circled on my clit, warming me up. I grasped his arm and bit my lip at the new feeling.

"Have you ever touched yourself before?"

My throat went dry.

"No." I answered again.

He smiled, "That's okay...but you've gotta tell me if you don't like what I'm doin', alright?" He asked.

I nodded with a hum.

He pulled my panties off and I felt completely exposed. Only my brasserie covered the last part of my modesty. But I felt safe with Arvin. I trusted him.

His hand returned back to my core where he continued rubbing circles on my clit. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the new-found pleasure.

"Already so wet, darlin'."

I whimpered at his filthy words and felt his finger slide down my core. He slowly pushed a finger into my entrance. I gasped and gripped his arm that rested beside my head, propping himself up.

He started moving it in and out, beginning to pick up a pace.

"How does that feel?" He asked.

"So- good." I hummed, eyes closed in pleasure.

He began to speed his finger up, curling it up to find my spot. I moaned, bucking my hips into his palm as if to say more.

He got the message and slipped a second finger in with ease. I moaned loudly as his fingers worked inside of me. His thumb grazed constantly over my clit and whatever he was doing was making my stomach flutter.

I could hear the sounds of my arousal and it added to the pleasure.

"So good for me, y/n. So good." He praised.

"Arvin!" I whined.

"What, angel?" He asked softly.

"I need you. Please." I practically humped his hand in desperation.

He smirked, "You sure you're ready?" He asked cautiously.

I nodded, "Please."

He removed his hand from me, leaving me a whimpering, pathetic mess. He slid his underwear off and my jaw dropped once again. His member was a lot bigger than I had anticipated. But to be honest, I had never seen one so I had nothing to compare it to. But my god.

He pumped himself in his hand as he got back onto the bed, kneeling between my legs. I sat up and removed my bra myself. I then took my hair out of the band and the ribbon, sitting them aside. I lay back down, attempting to make my hair look as nice as it could splayed out on the bedsheet.

"You're so fuckin' gorgeous. Can't wait to feel you." He groaned, getting on top of me.

I bit my lip and held his arm with one hand and gripped his hair with the other.

"You ready?" He asked.

I took a deep breath and nodded. He leaned down and encased my lips in a passionate but loving kiss, our lips moving slowly over each other's and our tongues swirling around perfectly. I got so distracted by the kiss that Arvin could easily slip half-way into me. I gasped at the feeling of him.

"Is that okay?" He checked, brushing some of my hair out of my face.

I nodded and hummed. He gave me a moment to adjust to his size. It was slightly uncomfortable but that soon went away when he pulled back then thrusted slowly into me again.

"Arvin," I moaned.

He lifted my thigh up to his side and pushed further into me. I tugged his hair and bit my lip.

"So fuckin' tight, fuck. Feel so good, darlin'." He panted.

"Please go faster." I whimpered.

He dipped his head into the crook of my neck and held my thigh firmly as he began thrusting into me. His pace sped up quickly and soon enough he was moving effortlessly into me.

"Feels so good!" I moaned, arching my back into his chest.

His lips came to my breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth. I gasped at the new feeling as his tongue lapped over my skin. His thrusts sped up and he completely bottomed me out, his skin slapping against mine with every push.

"Oh god!" I tugged on his hair.

He groaned, "So gorgeous, so hot - fuck."

I rolled my eyes back at his words.

In a Christian based Southern state, having premarital sex was looked down upon. But it didn't feel wrong. It felt so good.

"So tight around me," He commented lowly.

"Can we flip?" I asked breathlessly.

"'Course."

He smoothly flipped us, so he was on his back. I bit my lip and hovered over him, taking his member in my hand.

"Fuck." We both cursed in unison.

I pumped him in my hand a few times to see what it was like and how he reacted. He gripped my thigh tighter and bit his lip. I smirked, feeling a pang of power course through me.

I swiped his member on my folds, surprised at how wet I actually was. I slowly sank down on him and we both let out long groans as I bottomed him out.

"W-woah." I panted.

He sat up, shifting inside of me. I moaned a little at the movement. His arms wrapped around me and I held his shoulders. I kissed him deeply, running my hands up into his hair and his tongue explored my mouth like it never had before.

I started to move on him, up and down was my instinct. Apparently I was right.

"Fuck, darlin'." He cursed against my lips.

"Oh god." I moaned, gripping his broad shoulders for support.

He gathered my cascading hair and put it behind my back as I moved on top of him. For some reason it made emotions flow in my brain.

Love.

They way he cared for me and was gentle with me obviously set off an emotion I had never really felt before. Not romantically, anyway.

I looked into his dark eyes and stopped bouncing on him. He looked into my eyes and held my waist. He started to move my hips in a grinding motion. My mouth dropped open slightly at the feeling.

His eyes stayed on mine as I rolled my hips on his, his hands guiding me. It was intimate and passionate and I loved him. I held him as close to me as possible, our chests matching and my hands massaging his scalp.

"Arvin," I moaned.

I could feel a build up of tension in my stomach.

One of his hands slowly came down between us and started to rub my clit again. I threw my head back in pleasure, the feeling intensifying.

"Shit!"

"You close, darlin'?" He asked lowly.

"Close? To- to what?" I asked, fastening my movements.

"Fuck- to your high, baby."

His fingers kept working on my clit and his other hand still guided my hip.

"My high? Oh fuck! That feels so good!" I moaned loudly and highly.

His fingers worked faster.

"If you feel like you need to let go...then do it, baby." He groaned.

I didn't really know what he meant but the feeling in my core and stomach tightened.

"Oh god! Yes! Yes!" I moved my hips faster on him.

"God you feel so good, baby. So good around me." He praised.

I dug my nails into his back, my head going to his forehead.

"Arvin, I love you." I admitted breathlessly.

"You-you love me?" He repeated as if he was surprised.

"Yes! Yes, I love you." I bit my lip.

"y/n...pretty girl," He brushed some of my hair behind my ear.

"I love you, too." He grinned.

I stopped my movements for a second to smile and kiss him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing him as close to me as possible.

He started to thrust up into me, the sound of skin slapping and my surprised moans filling the room.

"Oh! Yes! God, yes!" I squealed.

He worked a lot faster than I did. His member brushed a spot inside of me I didn't even know existed. I could feel myself clenching around him and he groaned at the feeling.

"Let go for me, baby. Come on." He grunted.

"I love you! Arvin, I- yes!"

I felt the knot in my stomach snap and the feeling in my core burn. I moaned and cursed and gripped Arvin's hair in ecstasy. He continued thrusting up into me, my wetness dripping down onto him and his thighs.

"Feels so good baby, good job." He praised.

He kept me in my high like I had entered nirvana. My mind went cloudy, my vision hazy, my hearing muffled. All I could sense was Arvin. And that's all I needed.

"Fuck, baby-"

He quickly flipped me back onto my back and pulled out of me. I was still somehow in my high but I opened my eyes to see what he was doing. He pumped his member a few times before grunting and finished on my upper thigh and lower stomach.

I watched in awe. His muscles tensed and untensed, his head was thrown back and the sounds leaving his mouth were heaven.

After he calmed down he crashed next to me and we both caught our breaths.

"Sorry about that, I should have asked you." He sighed.

"It's okay. I liked it." I giggled.

He shook his head and looked at me, "You are perfect, y/n."

I shook my head back, brushing my hand over his loose curls, "No, you are."

He smiled at my touch, "How was it?"

I laughed lightly, "Good. I didn't even know it was possible to feel like that."

He smirked, "I'm a master, what can I say?"

I rolled my eyes and smacked his chest. He laughed and then shuffled closer to me, lips decorating my shoulder.

"Did you mean what you said?" He asked quietly.

I nodded, "Every word."

His lips connected to mine in a soft, long kiss.

"I love you." I whispered.

"I love you, too."

He dropped the needle onto the record and waited for the music to play.

(Play now)

'Cry To Me' by Solomon Burke began to play through the speaker.

Arvin had poured us a glass of very fancy scotch each. He said it was only for special occasions. I had only put my panties and one of his button down shirts on. The warm, humid weather was enough to keep me warm. Arvin wore a white vest shirt and some long pyjama bottoms.

"I love this song." I hummed, sipping the warm alcohol from the crystal glass.

"Dance with me." Arvin stated rather than questioned.

I smiled and sat my glass down. He gave me his hand and twirled me under his arm before bringing me into his chest.

We held hands on one side while his other hand held my waist and my other held his shoulder. We swayed back and forth to the music, enjoying the post-sex bliss.

"Come on, and cry to me." I sang an octave higher.

Arvin smiled, "I love you."

I giggled, "I love you, too."

We stayed like that, dancing and singing to the parts we knew, hands all over each other, stealing a few kisses whenever we could. He'd spin me out and I'd attempt to spin him but he could never get the hang of it.

We were happy. And we were in love.

"I've never seen you like this before, you know? I like happy on you." I smiled up at him.

A one sided smile curved on his face, "No one's been able to bring it out of me before."

I bit the inside of my lip at his words. Part of me was happy and proud that I could make him feel like that but the other part felt horrible that he's felt that way for so long.

"Well get ready to be happy a whole bunch, 'cause I ain't goin' nowhere."

He laughed, twirling me under his arm and back into his chest.

"That's exactly what I want." He smirked, leaning down to kiss me.

Our lips pressed together.

But only briefly.

A truck pulled up outside. And both of us turned to look out the window.

"Wait WHAT?!" I shouted, noticing that it was Emma and Earskell in the car.

I looked at the clock on the wall.

11:57.

"SHIT!" I exclaimed.

It was nearly midnight. I was supposed to be home at nine.

I scrambled to Arvin's bedroom and hurriedly put on my dress and shoes. Arvin put the shirt I was wearing on and changed into his work trousers again. He grabbed his jacket and his keys, shoving his feet into his shoes as we ran to the front door.

"Oh! You two are still here?" Emma jumped at the sight of us rushing past her outside.

"Back soon!" Arvin shouted.

I jumped into the passenger seat and Arvin got in the drivers. He pulled out frantically and drove off.

"Oh my god. I'm dead. I'm dead." I panicked.

"Just calm down, you'll be fine." Arvin tried to soothe me, speeding through the village.

"You'll be dead, too! Oh god what are they gonna do, Arvin?" I gripped my hair.

"We're nearly there, it'll be fine." He grasped my thigh lightly.

I took deep breaths, looking out at the silent town as we zoomed past everything. The dread in my stomach grew as we drove up the road and then entered the grounds, past the gate.

"Go before they get you, alright?" I ordered, jumping out the car.

"Y/N Y/M/N YL/N! Where the HELL have you been?!" Ma shouted from the door, storming outside.

"Ma, I can explain! Let's just go inside!" I exclaimed.

"Boy, get out that car right now!" She shouted at Arvin.

"Ma! Stop! It's not his fault!" I shouted, beginning to get defensive.

Arvin got out of the car and held his hands in his trouser pockets, walking towards Ma and I. I saw Daddy standing by the door, watching everything and my heart ached.

"You are supposed to be takin' care of her! How dare you keep her away this long with no contact! How dare you!" She shouted at Arvin, pointing a finger at hi accusingly.

"Ma! He didn't do anything!" I shouted.

"I am not STUPID y/n! I know that you two have been gettin' together almost every night. I see the car bein' parked behind the gate, I see the way you two look at each other. And I do not have a problem with that! But if the so called MAN known for his sexual acts keeps my 18 year old daughter out until MIDNIGHT, I am not gonna be happy!"

"We lost track of time, ma'am." Arvin stated calmly.

"Oh did ya' now? Doin' what?"

"Ma!" I shouted.

"No! I wanna know what was so important that stopped you from comin' home on time!"

Arvin and I stuttered, not knowing what or how to say anything.

Ma scoffed and clenched her jaw. We could practically see steam coming from her ears.

"You. Inside. Now." She demanded, pointing at me.

I furrowed my brows, "No! I'm not goin' inside with you!"

"y/n, inside right now!"

"No! I'm not leavin' Arvin!" I held his arm in mine.

Her chest heaved with rage, "Arvin, stay the hell away from my daughter."

Ma went to grab my arm but I dodged it.

"No!" I screamed.

"y/n!"

"No! I wanna be with Arvin!"

"He is no good for you!" She shouted as if he wasn't there.

"You do not get to tell me what I can and can't do! I'm an adult and if I am in love with someone-"

"IN LOVE?" Ma shouted.

"Yes! In love! We love each other and you can't stop that!" I held his arm so tightly I was surprised I hadn't cut his circulation off yet.

"You are not to be with each other anymore. You are a bad influence on my daughter and I never want to see you near her again. Do you understand?" She spoke sternly to Arvin.

I looked up at him. He gulped, his eyes becoming teary, "I understand." He uttered.

"Arvin!" I scoffed.

"I'll leave you alone." He murmured, beginning to walk away.

"Arvin! What the hell are you doing?!" I shouted, my arm still attached to him as he - we - walked away.

He opened the car door and clenched his jaw, not looking at me.

"Go with your parents. I've done enough."

"Arvin, don't say that! You- you just said you loved me!" I felt tears begin to fall from my eyes.

His chin quivered, "Just go, y/n. Please."

"What? No. No! I'm not going!"

He ripped his arm away from me and went to get in the car.

"No!"

I slammed the door so he couldn't get in.

"No! You don't get to do that, Arvin! You don't get to say you love me then fuck off when somethin' comes between us!" I shouted, realising these were more sobs than anything.

"Just go inside, y/n." He said to the ground.

I furrowed my brows and shook my head in disbelief.

"y/n-" I interrupted my mother.

"No! Arvin, please! Why are you doing this?"

"We can't be together." Arvin sniffed.

"Yes we can! We can!" I went to cup his face but he moved away.

I didn't know if it was sadness or utter rage but I broke down in tears.

"You said you loved me!" I screamed, pushing him against the car.

He took it. He didn't look at me, though. But he took my babyish tantrum.

"You said you loved me!" I cried, hitting his chest.

"y/n, go inside. Please." He begged quietly.

I saw tears fall from his face.

I stopped and stood back, watching with blurred eyes as he got into the car and drove off quickly.

I choked on a sob and kneeled to the ground in a cry, letting all the emotions I had pent up go. Absolutely everything.

Ma came up to me to comfort me but I pushed her off and stood back up.

"No! You don't get to comfort me after ruining love for me." I cried, pushing past her and running to the house.

I ran up the steps and I paused briefly when I saw Daddy watching with tired and heartbroken eyes. He silently moved to the side to let me storm away. I sobbed uncontrollable sobs as I ran up the stairs and slammed my door shut, sliding down to the floor.

I thought he loved me.

{Tags: @notanordinaryprincess96 @imagine-yourself-happy }

#arvin russel #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel fluff #arvin russel smut #arvin russel angst #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel mmini series #mini series #tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #tom holland fic #arvin russel fic #one shot #arvin russel imagine #imagine #tom holland imagine

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mourntheantagonist · 3 years

Text

#HarringroveApril Day 16: Nostalgia

***

When Billy signed those discharge papers, piled into his dented Camaro and headed west towards the sunset despite the screaming redhead banging on the windows crying “please don’t go!”, with an aching chest both metaphorical and physical, he didn’t think for a second about looking back.

So how he ended up back in the same shithole he turned his back on ten years ago was entirely beyond him.

He had made a life for himself in California. He got his associates degree at the local community college and worked his way up from a nine to five teller position at the local bank all the way to branch manager, making an upper middle class salary. It was easy work. Boring work, unfulfilling work, but easy and worth every penny. He had a couple of friends, mostly coworkers, more so acquaintances than friends. He had a fancy apartment in the city, he went on dates, though they usually ended in one night stands where the other guy snuck out in the dark hours of the morning leaving Billy to sleep in a bed that was just too big for one person. But he was free from all of those forces in his life that always held him back and pinned him down, and each and every one of those forces just reeked of small town America.

He hadn’t heard a peep out of Hawkins since Max had given up on calling around eight years ago, or at least he hoped that she’d given up and something worse hadn’t happened to her. He regretted not answering those calls everyday. The guilt of leaving her behind like that weighed heavy like an anchor, but he did it anyway. Bad decision after bad decision he was surprised he made it to where he had today, and he just wished she’d call again.

But he also wasn’t sure enough of himself that anything would change if she did, and that phone would likely remain on the hook until the ringing stopped and she was left to the sound of his voicemail.

“You’ve reached Billy Hargrove. Leave a message.”

He wasn’t home the day she finally did call, which fortunately took that decision away from him. Her message was tossed in with a mix of telemarketers and employees calling in for days off, it could have easily been dismissed, passed over like every other piece of junk in the system if her voice hadn’t been exactly the same as it was the day he left her.

“Hey Billy, it’s Max. I know you probably don’t give a shit, but Neil died of a heart attack last night…” Billy stopped listening after the words ‘Neil died’ came over the speaker. He had to replay the message to hear the rest because by the time he’d gathered himself it had already ended. “...the funeral is next Saturday in Hawkins. Nobody expects you to come but I thought you should know anyway and that everyone would still like to see you. Call me back at…” Billy wrote the number on the back of a blockbuster receipt and set it flat on the counter quickly with a firm hand and a quick retraction, like it might burn him. Max’s name and a ten digit number below it in a blue ballpoint pen stared back at him and he just drummed his fingers on the counter and bit his lip trying to think everything over.

He looked at it for probably another thirty minutes while the rest of the voicemails cycled through in the background before he decided to make a call of his own. Slowly and shaking, he dialed the phone number and tried to even out his breathing while he waited for the sound of the pick up. He was partially hoping that it never came.

But it did. The click sound was followed by a voice that didn’t belong to Max, but one he still recognized.

“Hello?”

Billy took in a deep breath. “Hi. This is Billy.”

“Wow, I’m surprised you actually called.”

Billy huffed and if it had been ten years earlier he would have already hung up the phone by now.

“Who is this?”

“Lucas Sinclair. I take it you want to talk to Max?”

Billy tensed at the mention of her name, as if that hadn’t been the whole plan in the first place. “Yeah,” he said, a little bit of shakiness to his voice, “could you put her on?”

After a few short moments of silence and a little bit of movement in the background, he heard her.

“Hey Billy.” she sounded… glad… and it made Billy let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“Hey Maxine.”

“It’s Max.” There was that tone, she hadn’t changed at all.

“Yeah, I know.” There was a pause, Billy twirled the phone cord around this index finger to the point it started going pink and then purple while he tried to get the question to leave the tip of his tongue. “So, he’s really dead?” he asked, blunt as ever.

“Yeah. I don’t expect you to want to come for the funeral, but I just thought you should know, and if you need a place to stay you can– hold on one second” Billy could hear muffled bickering and Max yelling ‘Lucas Sinclair’ through clenched teeth and it brought a smile to his face. It reminded him of all those times he’d eavesdrop on her phone calls with him just to piss her off, just to hear her yell at him through their shared wall before she’d chase him around the house. Those were good days. “As I was saying. You can stay here if you need. We have a spare room.”

“Thanks for the offer.”

“I really hope you decide to come.”

“We’ll see.” He was just about to hang the phone back up, but he stopped himself, “Hey Max?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice hearing the sound of your voice again.”

Billy wound up taking the week off and driving that same old Camaro, restored back to its former glory, that did the distance twice before, back over to Indiana, to the place he said he’d never go back to, and he really couldn’t figure out the reason why he didn’t just go into work. There was nothing to drive him to go but the weird feeling in his gut that refused to go away until he called in, and a little bit of that pressure was released.

For each freeway exit he came across on the over thousand mile journey he contemplated turning around, getting back on that on-ramp going the other direction and save himself from whatever hell he’d be walking into.

Because that’s what Hawkins was to him. Hell. There were monsters like his father, and then there were real, legitimate monsters as well and Billy wasn’t safe from either of them, well he was safe from one now. He couldn’t imagine why Max decided to stay in the shithole and not get out like he did.

Maybe that’s what makes him the coward.

The welcome to Hawkins sign gave him chills. He remembered seeing that for the first time, following behind the rickety Uhaul pulled by their beat up truck when Billy decided not to follow them into their next turn, and instead got lost on the “scenic route” of Hawkins which really meant “trees, trees, and more trees” when he hit the Quarry’s dead end and nearly went off the cliff into the water below.

At the time he might’ve thought it would have been better if he had.

A lot of things had looked to have changed about the town since the last time he saw it. Places that he remembered being nothing but vast forests now had neighborhoods and restaurant chains and the place that once had a natural canopy was now completely deforested and exposed to the sun.

But the Quarry was exactly the same as he left it.

From the beer cans crushed and scattered, to the sounds of gravel pieces bouncing up and chipping the paint on his car.

The continuities continued to add up when he stepped foot out of the car, pulling on that same old denim jacket he hadn’t worn in years after trading it in for a suit and tie. His boot hit the gravel path just like it always had, with that same stomp that demanded attention, like each time he got out of that car he had to play into the dramatics, put on the mask and play the part he chose for himself. The breeze and the smell, it was all the same as before, as if the industrialization just several blocks north hadn’t had any effects on this little corner of the town where the birds still sang their songs in harmony and the smell of nature was pungent. It felt like no time had passed at all.

But it had been the sound of a rumbling BMW rolling down the crushing gravel that made him feel exactly like he was back in highschool again, the same rotten kid who used fists as forms for problem solving, the kid who as an adult had worked on his impulsivity, standing there, staring up the gentle slope with his fists clenched so tight his fingernails left marks on his palms. All that work, all that progress he thought he’d gone through, thrown straight out the window at just the mere sight of something from his past.

The BMW pulled up beside him, and the quarry apparently wasn’t the only thing that hadn’t changed. Steve still had the same big swooped back hair and that same exact look on his face when they made eye contact through the passenger window, the same exact look he had the day he told him he was leaving, and screamed at him to get out of his hospital room.

That was the last time they spoke.

Steve got out of the car without a word and just leaned against the door, looking him up and down, and Billy didn’t feel like he had any right to say the first word, considering he’d had the last one.

“It’s good to see you Billy.” Steve broke the silence, and it was almost startling, with both the sudden change of volume, and the sound of that voice he’d almost forgotten singing in his head like a song he didn’t remember learning the lyrics to.

“Is it?” Because it felt like it was all just a formality coming out of his mouth.

He wasn’t expecting an answer to that, so he shouldn’t have been surprised when Steve changed the subject. It was oddly refreshing seeing Steve write the script this time, steering the conversation his way.

“Looks like we both kept our old wheels,” he said, slapping the top of his car twice, maybe a little too hard. The sound of a hand against metal echoed through the trees. “though there’s not as many dents from what I remember.”

“I had it restored.”

The majority of Steve’s body was hidden behind the car that separated the two of them, but he could see in the way that his shoulders moved that his hands had found his own hips, doing that same stance of a mother who just caught their kid in the act of something naughty. “Some good memories happened in that car.”

“Some bad ones too. Or do I need to remind you how the dents got there in the first place?” Billy crossed his arms over his chest, as if the thousand pound chunk of metal that served as a barrier wasn’t enough to protect him. Because it felt like Steve could see directly through him with the way his head tilted when Billy threw his words back at him. Because they both knew that it was horseshit. Memories of whatever happened between Steve and the Camaro existed only in the dents that remained and the neck pain that still lingered. He didn’t actually hold any grudge about that, and he never did.

Because Steve was right. There had been good memories in that car, some he didn’t remember until seeing him again, some that still played in his mind when he went to sleep at night. Maybe that was the reason he kept it around for so long, that one piece that contained all of those few good times, all of those times with Steve.

“You were always so good at that.”

“What?”

“Deflecting. Pushing people away.”

Billy opened his mouth to defend himself, but there was nothing that came out but his own breath, but Steve filled that silence anyway before Billy would have even had the opportunity to speak.

“You cut your hair.”

It was like he was being interrogated.

“Company policy, they practically had to strap me down and take the clippers to my head themselves.”

Steve actually laughed, and it seemed genuine at least. Billy pulled out the pack of red that he always kept on the seat like it was muscle memory. His hands would only ever stop shaking when he had that little stick between his fingers, and they were only shaking more since Steve got out of that car.

“You still smoke?”

Billy put the cigarette in between his lips and lit up, pausing for a nice drag before bothering to answer Steve. Just letting his eyes fall shut and experience just a short moment of relaxation.

“Some old habits never die”

Steve pursed his lips. Every single one of his mannerisms were exactly the same. This one meant that he wanted to say something that he didn’t know if he should.

“Was I just an old habit too?”

“Steve–”

Steve just kicked the side of his car with his knee, sure to leave a dent of his own. The sound was loud enough that the consistent stream of chirping birds transformed into a cascade of flapping wings as the birds on the trees flew away from the scene. He walked around to the front of his car and the physical object that once created separation was gone, and suddenly Steve was within reach and he couldn’t breathe.

“Glad to know it’s harder to quit nicotine than it was to quit me!”

Billy chucked his lit cigarette at the ground and scuffed it with his heel into the gravel. “Who told you it was easy?!” He had a finger pointed to Steve and had closed their distance a few feet more, less than an arms length apart from each other.

“You left!”

“Because I had to! You know I did!”

“You didn’t have to leave me!” Steve practically screamed that final word, his face was now just inches away from Billy’s and he was nearly foaming at the mouth and from an outsider's perspective, Steve looked about two seconds from either kissing him, or killing him.

He did neither. He took a step back and recollected himself with a dramatic clearing of his throat. “You didn’t even ask me to come with you.”

“And you don’t think I regret that every fucking day of my life?” Billy’s voice broke, trembling throughout the sentence like he was containing a ticking time bomb. “Why are you even here?”

Steve just rolled his eyes at the steer. “Max sent me.”

“Of course she fucking did.”

“She cares about you y’know.” Billy scoffed, because how could she? After all he did to her? He could still hear those palms banging against those windows and her muffled screams for her to stay every time he got into that car. “Why are you here?”

“Did she not tell you the part where my dad died?”

“I know damn well you didn’t come all this way to pay your respects.”

Billy let himself drop to the ground and sit on the rough terrain with his back against his tire, unable to continue standing, his legs were ready to betray him.

“I have no idea why I’m here, okay? I just am.”

Steve nodded his head, and he didn’t say anything, no quip back in his face, he just followed Billy to the ground.

“Are you upset he’s gone?”

Billy let out a groan and tried to rub the growing migraine from his temples.

“I’m feeling a lot of things, but I don’t think ‘upset’ is one of them.” Neither of them said anything after that. They just sat there on the ground and enjoyed the silence together like they used to do. Looking up at the clouds and arguing over what shape they were. There’d be none of that today though, and it had nothing to do with the overcast skies. “You still keep a six pack in your trunk?”

Steve laughed and got up from where he was seated and popped the trunk. He was right. Some old habits never fucking die.

Steve tossed a can over to Billy and sat back down on the gravel, maybe a little closer than he had been before. Billy took a long swig and swallowed the bitter taste down. He hadn’t drank much since he was a teenager, he traded in his Coors for Cola and he doesn’t understand how he used to enjoy the taste of it before.

“Why did you stay in Hawkins?”

Steve dug his heel and pushed a pile of rocks forward, kicking a plume of dust into the air.

“Nobody ever gave me a reason to leave.”

Billy wanted to ask if he would have even come with him had he asked him to. But he opted against it, instead just taking another drink from the can and a genuine “I’m sorry.” passed his lips.

“You know I followed you?”

“What?”

“Yup. Made it all the way to St. Louis before I turned around.”

Billy was just staring at him at this point, unsure if he’d just heard him right. He just sat there with his mouth agape, catching flies and waiting for Steve to say more.

“I knew that you needed to go. I knew that you were hurting and it took me almost ten hours on the open road to realize that you needed time to heal.” Steve’s eyes looked glossy and his cheeks flushed but he kept his smile on. “So I came back home, and I waited here for you to come back. I wanted to make myself easy to find when you needed me.”

“You waited for me?”

Steve inched his hand over to where Billy’s was propping himself up and let his fingers gently trace the back of his hand. Steve’s touch was everything. It made his heart start racing and his palms start sweating and it felt just like 1985 all over again.

Billy took Steve’s hand in his own and entwined their fingers together and Billy let out a long exhale as they did.

“Billy,” Steve said softly, scooting his body just a little bit closer, less than a foot of separation now between the two of them, and he looked Billy in the eyes. Billy had almost gotten entirely lost in those pools of deep brown before Steve had the chance to speak again. But he heard it, loud and clear. “I’m still waiting for you.”

He waited.

Waited ten fucking years.

Billy wasn’t going to make him sit there and wait for a kiss too.

Billy closed the distance at the moment the penny dropped, sinking all of his weight into the kiss in a frantic and uneven pace just like they were eighteen again trying to squeeze both of their bodies into the backseat of the Camaro, refusing for even a second to separate themselves from the one point of contact that sealed them together like glue. The kiss felt just like their first. In the same spot, instead under the stars and the two of them both drunk off their asses, and that time Billy tasted of only blood and liquor.

But it was that same feeling. That desire to never pull away, that fear that it would end and that it would be the last time. He had that fear with everyone of Steve and his kisses, that each one might just be their last.

So he made a point to savor all of them.

They kissed until they physically couldn’t anymore. Out of breath with swollen lips and an inability stop the smiles that peeked through every couple of seconds. They sat there with their foreheads touching and their clasped hands still intact, relishing in the heat that was each other’s breath on their faces. Billy was crying, just streams of tears paired with a smile that Steve gently wiped away with his thumb, the brush of contact making him shiver.

“I missed you so fucking much.”

Steve cradled Billy’s head in his hands and peppered a few short kisses to his lips.

“I missed you too.”

“You think this is why Max invited me here?” Billy asked. “I can’t imagine she’d actually think I would want to come to this thing.”

Steve laughed. “No. She’s not an idiot. She figured you’d want to crash the funeral.”

Billy immediately got up from his place on the ground and held his other hand out for Steve to grab onto. “Well you wanna join me while I go piss on my old man’s grave?”

Steve took his hand without hesitation and let Billy pull him up off the ground.

“It would be my honor.”

Hawkins made a lot of bad memories for Billy, most of which he locked somewhere far away, but the good still remained. Right there in the look on Steve’s face with the way he looked back at him.

And he was happy to make a couple more.

#billy hargrove #harringrove #stranger things #steve harrington #mandi writes tresh #ficlet #harringroveapril #harringrove april

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bealusith · 2 years

Text

new habits

eleventh in a series of missing scenes [ao3 link].

in which Isi has no filter.

[Dec. 25] Saturday 10:00

Isi woke up with their phone ringing in their hand. It took them a moment to realize what it was, and what they were supposed to do with it. When they looked at the screen, they saw that it was 10 AM, exactly, and that Sascha was calling them. Isi had made him promise that he’d wake her up. She melted seeing his name on the screen, remembering it and realizing that it’d been real.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” Sascha said back.

Last night, they’d stopped in front of Isi’s door, and stood there, waiting. Isi knew what would happen next, but he wasn’t sure how, and who would make the first move. He had walked home leaning against Sascha and falling asleep, but in that moment, he was fully alert, feeling as if he’d downed three cans of energy drinks. He didn’t know if he was still thinking, or if his body was running on pure directionless electricity. When Sascha’d kissed him, he grabbed his coat to pull him closer until he walked backwards into the door. Now, he had a bruise where the door-handle had been.

“How are you feeling,” Sascha asked.

Isi had to recall the fact of human language. “Good,” they said. “You?”

“Good.”

When neither of them spoke, Isi heard static, as if Sascha had been on a windy street. They couldn’t imagine it: Sascha, outside, Sascha getting up and going out while Isi was still asleep, like it was nothing.

“Where are you?”

"We’re looking for a Christmas tree,” Sascha said. “I thought it’d be only me and my mom, but it’s more like half of the city.” Isi didn’t say anything, calculating how much further Sascha was from where Isi’d expected him to be. “What kind should we get?" Sascha asked.

"What?”

"The tree."

"Oh." Isi considered it. "Pine."

"Then pine it is,” Sascha said. “I’ll have to ask.”

“Now?”

“Well,” Sascha laughed, “yes?”

“Okay,” Isi said, unhappy.

Neither of them was hanging up.

“We’ll be there at seven,” Sascha said.

“I know,” Isi sighed, then repeated, more brightly, “I know.” They didn’t want to hang up, but they didn’t to make Sascha feel bad for having to, either. “See you at seven,” they said.

“See you,” Sascha said back.

The call ended.

Phone still in their hand, Isi rolled onto their back and stared at empty expanse of their ceiling. When they’d come home last night, they fell asleep as soon as they hit the mattress. But even then, there was a moment when they’d been afraid of what would happen next. They’d made Sascha promise that he would call, but what if he wouldn’t? What if overnight, everything changed - again? Sascha did call, but now that he’d hung up, Isi wondered.

Last night, when it’d first occurred to her that they would have to stop – she would have to go to hers, and Sascha to his, and they wouldn’t be in the same room until the following evening – when this occurred to her, she’d asked him if he would stay. Sascha drew back slightly and said that he didn’t know if that would work. Isi hadn’t meant – but once Sascha mentioned it, it was impossible to make it mean anything else. Isi dropped her head on Sascha’s arm, too embarrassed to look at him. She’d felt Sascha letting out a small disbelieving laughter, the air moving by their ear.

Had it been too much? Were they? Sascha’d said no, but would he always?

When Isi’d asked Sascha to call to wake him up before – long before, after their first lockdown together – he didn’t always pick up. Instead, he let the phone buzz, once, twice, again, until noon, when his mother would drag him out of bed anyway. When Sascha asked why Isi wanted him to call if he wasn’t going to pick up anyway, Isi shrugged. He didn’t have a good answer. It was better than the alarm in his phone – and sometimes, he did answer, and told Sascha what’d gone on the previous night, what he wore, what he drank, what Consti broke in a stranger’s house. When he was telling it to Sascha, he felt that it’d happened to someone else – as if he’d been only watching himself, two metres from his body.

It was nothing like this now. Isi knew that it’d been them stopping last night in front of their door, fumbling for their key and hesitating when they’d found it. It’d been him, standing there and waiting. It was her, waiting now. They were whole when they were with Sascha. They didn’t hide anything, or hold anything back. They wouldn’t know how, even if they wanted to. But it meant that no piece of them was left safe. Before, if anything’d gone wrong, Isi knew that it wouldn’t be about him – not all of him, not really. They couldn’t say it now. There was no distance separating her from her body, no bubble wrap. There was no separation whatsoever. It was incredible and terrifying.

Her phone buzzed.

Sascha had sent her a picture of a pine tree resting in a pot next to his cart.

will it fit, Isi wrote.

sure it will, came the reply.

Isi noticed that she’d received other messages over the night. A good work from Lou. did it go ok?! and, hours later, cool name-tag! from Finn. OH MY GOD from Kieu My and three voice notes, together almost fifteen minutes. When Isi had played them all (and almost cried listening to Kieu My saying how important these spaces were for people like them – like them, because it was them, and Isi wasn’t alone) and replied, he opened Instagram. Browsing the gallery, Isi realized that half of his pictures from last night was of various leaflets. He picked a picture Sascha took of him, a picture David took of Sascha and her together and, at the very end, the pictures they’d posted on their story. The name-tag, up close, and the selfie. They didn’t give themself the time to hesitate.

She’d watched her friends like the post. Sascha's comment: a purple heart. Ten minutes later: a notification that Ava liked it. Isi put away their phone and closed their eyes. They put their hand over their heart. It was racing, but they weren’t afraid. Or, afraid wasn’t all they were. They remembered what Lou had said: it was the feeling of freedom.

#druck #saschisi #also the one in which i remember how to write.#and the one in which the summary is more ~significant than the title.#i would call this no filter if i didn't use this exact structure the last time.

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hearts-hunger · 3 years

Text

say it again when we’re sober || frankie morales x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: High off your asses and half-asleep watching Deep Space Nine, you and Frankie say some things you might not have said sober - but that doesn’t make them any less true.

Pairings: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Reader, College AU

Genre: Fluff, smut, idiots to lovers

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Drug use, making out, fingering (be safe smoking the devil’s lettuce, kids), perhaps boring amounts of consent-talk (but is there really such a thing? consent is so sexy)

A/N: Yeah so I got high and somebody had Star Trek on and I let my imagination run wild. I’m pretty proud of this one, though - I think it’s hot and really soft. Also, I know this isn’t a Frankie gif, but since it’s a college au I wanted him to look a little younger :) Enjoy!

One second. Omw.

You stuffed your phone in your pocket after reading his text and looked through the grating in the security door, your arms crossed over your chest against the cold. It seemed like Frankie was taking his sweet time coming from his dorm to let you into his building, and you shifted from one foot to another to try and generate a little heat.

He came through the inside door a minute later, grinning like an idiot when he saw you; you tried to ignore the butterflies you always felt when he smiled at you. He opened the security door for you and ushered you inside with a gallant wave.

“Sorry it took forever, Santi almost set the whole place on fire trying to make popcorn.”

You gave him an exasperated smile as you walked with him down the corridor towards his dorm. “Great. So it smells like burnt popcorn?”

He smirked. “Not for long.”

“Wait.” You grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie and pulled him to a stop.

He raised a brow. “What?”

“We’re not gonna - ” You looked around and were satisfied to see an empty hallway, but still lowered your voice. “- smoke inside, are we?”

He looked amused at your worry. “Yeah, why not? I thought you wanted to smoke.”

You punched his shoulder and gave a begrudging smile when he laughed.

“Shut up,” you said. “And yeah, I do, but you’re gonna get in trouble doing it inside.”

He rolled his eyes as you started walking again. “Ugh, fine. We’ll go outside if you want. But it’s gonna be cold.”

“I’ll make you some hot soup or something.”

He snorted. “Yeah, let’s get high and have soup. That sounds great.”

He held the door open for you when you reached his dorm, and you were greeted by the smell of burnt popcorn, as promised.

“Honey, I’m home,” you called, looking around for the culprit. Santi’s head poked out from the kitchen and gave you a wide grin.

“Hi, sunshine,” he said. “Sorry about the popcorn. I didn’t burn all of it, though.”

You went through to the kitchen as Frankie went into his room for a minute, picking out a handful of popcorn from the not-burnt bowl. “And they said college wouldn’t make you any smarter, Santi.”

He smirked. “Yeah, well, you’re the one still hanging out at our apartment on a Saturday night when you could be doing literally anything else, so who’s the real dumbass?”

You smiled. “Still you. What are you doing with your Saturday night, if you’re too fancy to spend it here?”

He leaned against the counter. “I’m going to Will and Ben’s.”

“Ah,” you said, nodding sagely. “Mario Kart.”

“Hey, you’re welcome to join,” Santi said. “Unless you’d rather be alone with Frankie.”

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively; you laughed and tried to downplay the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Yeah right,” you lied. “I’m here for his weed, not anything else.”

“Oh, are you guys smoking?” he asked. “Can I join?”

You shrugged. “Sure.”

“Only if you want to freeze to death,” Frankie called. A second later he came out of his room, holding another hoodie and the pencil case he kept his stash in.

“She’s making me take her outside to smoke,” Frankie told Santi.

Santi grimaced. “Yeah, no thanks.”

Frankie tossed you the extra hoodie he’d brought out, a soft blue thing you’d seen him wear a lot. You put it on and were practically swimming in it, but it was nice and warm and smelled like him.

“Thanks,” you said, sticking your hands in the front pocket and swinging back and forth on your heels.

He looked amused at your enjoyment of his hoodie. “You ready?”

“Lead on,” you said. You gently butted your head against Santi’s shoulder. “Bye, Santi. Hope you win in Mario Kart.”

“Thanks,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

You and Frankie walked back out of the housing complex, catching each other up on your day. You’d been best friends since you arrived late to the first meeting of your physics class and had to take the only open seat, right next to Frankie. He’d walked you to your next class so you wouldn’t get lost, and from then on, you’d practically been inseparable.

Lots of people had thought you’d get together. Santi, Will, and Ben - Frankie’s best friends from freshman year and now your friends too - teased both of you mercilessly about it. You couldn’t lie and say you hadn’t thought about it - really, you spent a lot of time thinking about it - but you were way too shy to make the first move. You figured Frankie would tell you if he felt that way about you, and you’d live with it if he didn’t. You loved him and you knew he loved you, even if it wasn’t like that, and you were happy with it.

He took you down to the side of the outbuilding that technically served as the housing offices, but it didn’t see much traffic during the day and was abandoned at this hour.

“Ok?” he asked, and you knew that as much as he’d grumbled, he was happy to change his plans around to make sure you felt comfortable.

You looked around at the dark parking lot. “Yeah, it’s good.” It was cold, like he’d warned you it would be, and you stood close to him as he fished a joint and a lighter out of his bag.

“Your pencil case must make you popular with all the ladies,” you teased.

He laughed. “Yeah. I haven’t really found a better place for it.”

He put the pencil case in the pocket of his hoodie and took a long, slow drag when the joint was lit. He held it out to you and you took it carefully.

“This isn’t the ‘hype you up’ kind, is it?” you asked. You’d had something before that made you all jittery and wild, and you hadn’t liked it that much.

He shook his head, bottling a cough in his chest. “Uh-uh,” he said, turning his head to exhale. “It’ll chill you out. You’re good.”

You took as long a drag as you could manage, giving a decent volley of coughs as you exhaled. You smoked with Frankie pretty frequently, all things considered, but you still weren’t very good at it. You liked being high, but you didn’t really like the process of getting high.

“Hit it again,” Frankie offered. “We both know you don’t ever get anything on the first try.”

That was probably true. You took another drag, the lit end flaring with color in the darkness, and managed it better with a little less choking.

You handed it back to Frankie. “Thanks for coming outside.”

“Sure,” he said with a smile. “Anything for you, kiddo.”

You stood close to each other for warmth, passing the joint back and forth until it was spent. Frankie killed it and you looked up at the stars, dim with the light pollution from campus but with certain constellations still recognizable.

Frankie cleared his throat. “So, I’m gonna say something, and it might be a little weird.”

You laughed and tipped your head back down to look at him. “That’s always a danger when you open your mouth, Frankie.”

His smile and the way he looked at you seemed so impossibly tender that you wondered if you were seeing it correctly.

“Ok, smart-ass,” he said, and his voice matched the way he looked, soft and affectionate. He looked a little nervous, and you wondered what he wanted to say that could be such a big deal. Usually Frankie was so straightforward, unafraid of speaking his mind -

“I wanna kiss you.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“What?” you choked.

He laughed. “Goes down real smooth, huh? Well, forget I said it.”

“No, Frankie,” you said, trying to get your composure. You felt a swing of dizziness and grabbed onto his arm to steady yourself.

“Easy, tiger,” he said, putting his hand on your other arm. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” You looked up at him. Could you really have heard him right?

“Say that thing you just said.”

He smiled. “Which one? About wanting to kiss you?”

You tipped your face up almost unconsciously. “Yeah, that one.”

He gave a thoughtful hum. “Well...” He leaned closer to you, close enough that your noses touched. He chuckled softly. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, kiddo. Pretty much since the day you grabbed the seat next to me in physics.”

You could feel his warm breath on your skin. “That long?”

He hummed in agreement. “That long.”

You closed your eyes. He was so close - you felt his warmth all around you, protecting your from the cold.

“So kiss me,” you said softly, almost afraid to speak too loud and break the spell, to test this delicate balance you both hung in.

You didn’t know how long he waited - it could have been seconds or hours, you couldn’t tell - but then there was nothing but the feel of his mouth on yours, warm and soft and cautious.

He pulled back just enough to see your face.“How was that?”

You smiled. “Sweet,” you said, a little dazedly. Better than you had imagined. “Nice.”

He laughed. “Sweet and nice, huh?” He kissed you again, still as gentle as could be. “You’re sweet and nice.”

“You have a way with words, Frankie.”

“I’ve been told that a lot actually.”

He kissed you deeper then, still taking it slow, giving you time to get used to him. He let you take the lead, and when you opened your mouth, he responded in kind. You could have kissed him like that forever, lazy and easy and full of promise.

“Frankie,” you breathed.

He pulled back a little. “Hm? You ok?”

You pressed closer to him to close the distance; his cautiousness was sweet but unnecessary, and you wanted more of him.

“I want...” But you couldn’t say it, were too embarrassed all of a sudden, your face warming even in the cold air. Not even getting high could erase your bashfulness altogether, or make you brave enough to ask your best friend for - well, more.

The hand that had been holding onto your arm released you, only to find its way to your waist.

“You want...” he prompted, giving you a few feather-light kisses to your cheeks and nose. “What do you want, pretty girl?”

Your breath caught when he called you that, and you wondered if he’d do it again if you asked.

“Call me that again,” you said.

You felt his smile against your cheek. “Tell me what you want, pretty girl,” he murmured. “‘S just me. You don’t have to be shy.”

You closed your eyes and leaned into him, your best friend, the person you felt safest with.

“Touch me, please.”

“Okay,” he said against your jaw. He moved to kiss you, steering you gently back a few steps until you were against the wall, bracketed by his arms. You let your hands drift over his chest, fingers glancing over the little bit of collarbone exposed by the loose collar of his hoodie.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, ok?” he said. You nodded, and his hand moved from your waist to your breast, kneading gently. You could feel the warmth of his hand even though the hoodie, and you sighed as he kissed you deeper.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, moving his thigh between your legs; you were surprised by the rush of warmth that went through your whole body. You didn’t know if he would have noticed, but you gasped a little, and you could feel his smile.

“What?” he asked, amused and kind.

“Just... surprised me a little.”

He nosed against your jaw. “Good surprise?”

You nodded. “You can...” Again, you drifted off, embarrassed. He kissed you again.

“I want to do whatever you want to do,” he said easily. “Whatever you’re comfortable with. All you have to do is tell me.”

Your cheeks felt impossibly hot against the cold air, and you leaned your head against his.

“You can...” you started again. You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You can - I want you to - ”

You put your hand over his and moved it down, slowly, giving him time to pull away. Even though he’d said he was ok with whatever you wanted, it was still so early, and you wanted to go slow, for both of your sakes. He got your meaning and started fumbling with the button on your jeans.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl,” he reminded you again, but there was only affection in his voice, and you knew he would patiently remind you as many times as you needed. Frankie knew you, knew how you always got so tripped up trying to say what you meant, what you wanted - he knew you and cared for you like you needed to be cared for.

You blushed and hid your face against his shoulder. “Want you to... finger me. Please.”

A thrill rushed through his body at that, a wave of desire and protectiveness that you could feel under your hands as you held onto him. He moved closer to you, one hand leaning against the brick wall behind you, the other slipping under the waistband of your jeans.

“You can tell me to stop any time,” he said. “Just say the word.”

“Okay,” you agreed, already a little breathless at his warmth so close to you.

He moved his hand slowly, staying over your underwear; he gently worked his way over your heat, pressing just enough to make you sigh against his mouth. God, his hand was so big, and his fingers were so gentle - it was heady, with his fingers rubbing slow circles and his tongue in your mouth. You pressed against him, wanting more, wanting him.

He pulled away and you wondered if you’d done something wrong, tried to tamp down the sting of disappointment and embarrassment as you thought he may have reconsidered it all. Before you could say anything, stutter out an apology, he gave you a quick, reassuring kiss.

“It’s alright,” he said. “Just wanted to warm my hand up a little for you.”

He cupped his hands over his mouth and warmed them, rubbing them together; he reached for your hands and blew gently on them too.

“Figured your hands were cold too,” he said sweetly, and kissed your knuckles. You gave him a wobbly smile and let him hold your hands for a moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, with an innocence and sincerity that made you weak in the knees.

You leaned close to kiss him, and he obliged you. You draped your arms around his neck and tucked your hands under his hood to keep them warm as he went back to the job at hand.

His fingers were a little warmer, but they were still a shock as he slipped into your underwear and traced over your heat. Your breath hitched from the first touch, and he gave a pleased hum as he started to circle your clit.

“Frankie,” you sighed, letting your body move naturally against him.

“Feels ok?” he asked gently.

“Y-yeah,” you breathed. He moved down and teased at your entrance; you bunched the fabric of his hoodie in your grip.

“Easy does it, pretty girl,” he said, nipping at your bottom lip. “Gonna take it nice and slow.”

True to his word, he slowly worked a finger into you, his thumb still rubbing your clit. You let out a shaky breath that gave way to a quiet moan, and you immediately felt yourself blush.

“Sorry,” you said.

He chuckled. “That’s ok. Sounded real pretty, baby.”

He made a come-hither motion with his finger, and you moaned again, a little less quietly. You buried your face in his neck, your cheeks burning; he smiled and kissed you, and you felt hot all over knowing he liked the sounds you made.

“Please, Frankie,” you said, kissing his neck. His thumb on your clit was driving you crazy; your legs started to shake and you leaned on him to steady yourself. “Please.”

He knew what you meant, and he added another finger, setting a steady pace. He didn’t seem in any mood to rush, and you let him draw you out with his skillful, patient touch.

“Fuck,” you breathed quietly, tangling your fingers in his curls. You could feel your orgasm cresting like a wave between your hips, a low fire turned into a roaring flame with Frankie’s fingers inside you and his mouth on yours. You gasped and let out a sort of mewl as he gave your clit more attention, crumpling his hoodie in your fists.

“Frankie,” you almost whined.

He kissed your collarbone. “Tell me, pretty girl.”

Your breath came in short pants. “Gonna cum, Frankie.”

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice low. “Cum for me, baby.”

His praise tipped you over the edge and you came on his fingers, riding out your orgasm as he drew it out as long as he could for you. You leaned your head back against the wall and he kissed your neck, murmuring words of praise.

“So beautiful,” he said against your skin. “What a good girl for me.”

When you came down from your high - well, one of them - blissed out and a little overstimulated in the best way, you looked up at him and gave him a dreamy smile.

“Thank you,” you said unsteadily. You were half aware that you were leaning heavily against him as your legs still shook, but he didn’t seem to mind.

He chuckled. “No problem, baby. My pleasure.”

You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling a little dazed as the endorphins seemed to make the weed start to hit more noticeably. You were content and warm, feeling more comfortable and safe than you had in a long time.

“You ok?” he asked. He ran a soothing hand up and down your back.

You hummed in agreement. “A little cold.”

“Yeah, it is a little cold out here,” he agreed. “Why don’t we go back to my place and get warmed up?”

“At least buy me a drink first,” you said, and he laughed.

“Come on, trouble.” He took your hand in his; you tucked yourself close to him and leaned against his arm as you walked back to his dorm.

Santi was still out when you got back, but he’d lit the one candle he kept for when girls came around, and the apartment smelled comfortingly like laundry, or some variant of a “soft cotton” smell. You kicked off your shoes and curled up on Frankie’s bed.

He leaned down and gave you a quick kiss. “Be right back.”

You were content to lay on the bed and doze a little; you did get a little in your head when you thought Frankie had been gone for a long time, but he came back just before you started getting panicky, his laptop and a bowl of popcorn in hand.

“You two and your popcorn,” you said, moving over to make room for him on the bed.

He smiled. “Yeah, but I didn’t burn it, because I’m not an idiot.” He set his laptop on his thigh and pulled up Netflix. “Any requests?”

You shook your head, cuddling close to him. “Whatever you want.”

He put on Deep Space Nine, one of his guilty pleasure shows, and put his arm over your shoulders.

Between the two of you, the popcorn bowl was quickly empty, and you you spent the remainder of the episode kissing and going through every dumb question you had about Star Trek. Your attention got hooked during one scene with a monastery and a weird prophecy-orb that gave people sex visions - or at least that’s what you gathered, as you were very tired and still pretty high. You looked over at Frankie to confirm that’s what had just happened, but stopped before you asked when you saw him.

He was asleep, his head at a bit of an uncomfortable angle, his arm still around you as he snored gently. You couldn’t help a smile as you studied his face, all soft and pretty and restful.

You couldn’t help the words that came out of your mouth, either, tumbling out before you could stop them.

“I love you.”

Oh, boy. Your pulse jumped as if you’d just yelled it from the rooftops instead of whispering it to him while he slept, and you watched his face for any kind of reaction. You didn’t know whether it had been a good idea to say it or not, but you had, and you found it was the easiest thing in the world.

You wanted to say it again.

He shifted a little, tucking you closer to him; you held your breath, waiting to see if he had woken or was just moving closer in his sleep.

“Lay down,” he murmured. You did as he said, laying your head on his chest, tucking your hand in the pocket of his hoodie. He was warm and solid and safe, and you relaxed completely against him.

“I love you, Frankie,” you said again, even softer.

He gave a sleepy grunt.

“Heard you... the first time,” he mumbled, still mostly asleep. “Love you, baby. Let’s... say it again when we’re sober, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you agreed. You smiled and snuggled close to him, already feeling like you were home.

taglist: @punkgeekchic, @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl, @stardust-galaxies

let me know if you want to be added to my pedro pascal character taglist!

#this is kinda off brand for me lol let me know what you think!!#frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #college au #frankie morales x reader fluff #frankie morales x reader smut #francisco morales #triple frontier #santiago garcia #tw drug use #tw drugs #maddie writes stuff!

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whiskey-writes · 3 years

Text

Return Teaser

A SPN x reader fic

-x-

Six months. Eleven states. An area spanning from the west coast to a couple hundred miles east of the cascades.

And seventeen cases of hunters vanishing without a trace.

(Y/N) had been investigating the disappearances for the past several weeks. Even after figuring out the pattern, tracking this thing down had proven to be just about as easy as nailing smoke to a wall. It had taken her a handful of all nighters, countless hours spent pouring over the internet, and approximately five gallons worth of caffeine, but she at long last traced it all back to the source.

She played her way right into their hands, and now the real hunt began. The die was cast, and she had all her cards laid out on the table in a high stakes game of life or death.

“Hey, Bobby.” The weight of the words hung heavy in the stillness of the air. It wasn’t looking like she’d be making it out of this hunt alive, and that grim, unspoken reality read loud and clear just in the way she said hello. She was in some way thankful her call had gone straight to voice mail. It was easier if she just didn’t think about how what she was about to do would upset her uncle.

(Y/N) sat with her back pressed against the far wall, phone held up to her ear by her non-dominant hand. Her arm was propped up by her knee, while her opposite leg lay stretched out in front of her. She ran a hand through her hair and suppressed a weary sigh as she spoke into the phone. Barricaded inside the little cabin and armed to the teeth, there was nothing left to do but sit and wait as the moon rose higher and higher into the night sky.

“So, listen. I don’t have much time.” (Y/N) said, fingertips absentmindedly tracing the sigils etched into the stock of the shotgun that lay in her lap. She had soaked every bullet, blade, and weapon she could in dead man’s blood in preparation for the coming battle. “This whole hunt just went full shit show. We are dealing with vampires after all. But it’s not just that. This is far greater than we anticipated. I’ve got my back to the wall and I’m out of options. If I pull this off then there’s a chance I’ll be able to end this once and for all.”

(Y/N) paused, taking a shaky breath before confirming what Bobby will have already guessed for himself.

“They’re tracking me down as we speak.” These blood sucking bastards were targeting hunters, and (Y/N) was going to make sure there was hell to pay for it even if it cost her her life. “I’m holed up in some cabin just outside Missoula waiting for them now. It’s god damn near 23:50, at this rate the frost is gonna bite me before they get the chance.” She joked, shifting her position and adjusting her hold on the shotgun so that the barrel now rested in the crook of her neck.

One of the logs in the fireplace fell with a soft thud as the charred wood burning away beneath it crumbled apart. The subtle sound caused her body to tense up, anticipation making her jumpy. Chuckling to herself beneath her breath, (Y/N) tilted her chin up, letting her head fall back against the wall while her eyes drifted shut.

“One way or another, my bike better be back at the salvage yard one week from today, or Singer - I swear to god - I’ll crack open all of your beers so they go flat.” The playful threat brought a slight smile to her lips. Bobby knew full well how much her motorcycle meant to her, he’d been the one that helped her build it after all. This was her way of asking him to come get it if she never returned. “By the way, if you’re still looking for the TV remote it’s in the glove compartment of the Chevelle. I’m not sorry, and I regret nothing. Yell at me about it when I get back.”

With that, (Y/N) hung up and pushed herself off the ground. She wasted no time in destroying her SIM card and tossing the remains into the fire. She had more than just Singer’s number saved in her contacts and she wasn’t about to risk putting Bobby or anyone else in danger.

Another hour passed by in peace, during which time (Y/N) made a couple rounds of the small little cabin, checking and rechecking her defenses. She had taken all the blood she could when she broke into the morgue on her way out of town, right down to the very last drop. She knew she could hold her own for only just so long against a nest this strong, but (Y/N) was going to do everything in her power to slow them down.

~ x ~

“You’re a hunter.” Sam Winchester leaned against the frame of the doorway with his arms crossed, watching as his older brother got down on the floor so he could look under the couch. He wouldn’t have been able to wipe the massive grin from his face if he tried. “You kill monsters for a living, and you can’t find one little remote?”

“Shut up, Sammy.” Dean snapped gruffly, his frustration steadily increasing the longer he searched.

It had been about six hours since they had brought Bobby home from the hospital. Sam and Dean had just finished working a case in Wichita when they’d gotten the call from the hospital informing them that a Mr. Snyderson had just been admitted to the OR for an emergency surgery.

It was roughly an eight hour drive from Wichita to the hospital, so by the time the boys arrived it was nearly three in the morning. According to the nurses, Bobby had been lucky; he’d come in at just the right time and they were able to remove his appendix before it ruptured. The surgery went well, there were no complications, and “Bill” would be able to go home after 24 hours of observation.

It was now just past six the next morning, and the two boys were making themselves at home while Bobby rested upstairs. Dean had made the discovery that Bobby’s TV was stuck on some shopping channel with the same infomercial crap on loop while Sam was out on a breakfast run.

Their brotherly bickering (and Dean’s hopeless search for the remote) was cut short the moment Bobby Singer walked in.

“Would you two idjits pull your heads out of your asses for once?” Bobby spat, absolutely furious as he walked through the door. He muttered violently under his breath as he retrieved a file from one of his shelves. “...of all times...that damn reckless, stubborn...”

Dean exchanged a questioning look with Sam. Something was wrong; Bobby was worried.

They both followed Bobby into the kitchen, where he threw the file onto the table before digging out his bottle of pain killers from the hospital bag that sat on the counter.

“What happened?” Sam asked gently. Dean occupied himself by eating one of the donuts Sam had bought for breakfast, while Bobby and the youngest Winchester took a seat at the table.

“My phone was turned off while I was at the hospital. I got this last night.” Bobby said, putting his phone on speaker before replaying the message. The three hunters sat in silence, listening intently as the message played. Dean had moved to take a seat at the table during that time, his brow furrowing in thought.

“She made herself their next target.” Sam stated. Bobby nodded grimly.

“Why?” Dean asked, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned back in his chair. “Who is she?”

“Her name is (Y/N) (L/N). She’s been a hunter all her life.” Bobby‘s face fell as he spoke of her, too tired to mask the worry in his eyes. “And she’s every bit the bull headed, stubborn bastard her father was. Not to mention twice as reckless.”

Bobby opened the file filled with papers hand handwritten notes, sliding it over towards Sam and Dean so they could look through it.

“A couple of weeks ago I get a knock on my door at four in the morning on a Saturday, and there stands this stinkin’ idjit all bright eyed and excited about some new case she’d stumbled across.“ Bobby scoffed.

-x-

Interested? Let me know if I should continue! Thank you so much for reading ❤️

#supernatural #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #spn x reader #SPN fic #dean x reader #sam x reader #cas x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #Bobby Idjit

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d0llpie · 3 years

Note

Hii can you possibly do suna and the miya twins going with their gf to her childhood home for a vacation and turns out she's v v rich and actually lives in a palace (designed like a royal palace) completed with butlers and maids and just the boys being shook and the gf touring them around? Thankyou💘

Visiting s/o childhood home

Tsumu x reader, Suna x reader, Osamu x reader

Sorry this took me longer than usual i was having a little bit of trouble with Sunas part, thank you for the request <3

Atsumu:

You were both on the way to your childhood home, he had a weekend off of training and you decided a trip away would be good for you both. “So babe what will yer parents think of me?” he wiggled his brows before turning back to the road. “Tsumu we’ve been together for years and you know them..besides they won’t be there until saturday night they have work” you deadpanned and he chuckled before squeezing your thigh. “Not in person tho.” It was true he’d only ever spoken to your parents over skype but they had known about him from the moment you started dating. After college you moved in with Tsumu so distance would be easier when he travelled for volleyball.

Upon arrival, atsumu stared out the car window with his mouth hung open. “This is it?” he looked over at you “What not grand enough for you?” you teased and left the car. You looked behind you to see Tsumu just admiring the fountain in the front yard, beautiful gardens surrounding with vibrant coloured flowers and lush grass. “Y/N, welcome home this must be Atsumu Miya?” at the large front door stood your butler “Hi, yes it is, it’s good to be home!” you replied as Tsumu jogged up to your side, “We’ll grab your bags, make yourselves at home!” you nodded and grabbed atsumu’s hand running inside.

You first walked into your industrial style kitchen and grabbed you both a glass of water “okay so i’ll show you around before they get here tomorrow and we can just chill and watch some movies tonight if that’s okay?” Atsumu was looking through all your cupboards and drawers “is this real silver?” “Tsumu did you hear what i said?” you shook your head and dragged him into the living room. The roof seemed almost as high as a volleyball stadium and Atsumu admired the smooth wallpaper and spotless couch. “Honestly babe i might’ve just dated you for your money if i knew about how loaded you were.” you rolled your eyes at him before leading him out into the hall “no seriously, i know i make a lot but maybe you should be my sugar mummy” he wrapped his arms around your waist and you laughed before swatting his arm playfully.

After you’d managed to tour Atsumu around the whole house and survive his snarky comments you went up to your childhood bedroom. “Awww y/n~ what’s this” Atsumu held up a teddy bear while plopping onto your bed with a shit eating grin. “Hey give that here-“ you jumped onto him and he just laughed loudly before rolling you over and pecking your face in kisses. “And to think people thought you were in it for my money..” you looked up at him with an offended face “who is people??” “Oh ya know just fans who are jealous of ya babe don’t worry i’ll make sure to tell everyone i’m here for your riches.” he lay his head on your chest and you scoffed before smiling down at him.

“Tsumu let’s watch a movie hmm?” you both changed into your pyjamas before making your way down to the theatre room. “Want me to make some popcorn?” Tsumu offered and you shook your head “come lie down, we don’t have to get it.” “wow babe you’re spoiling me” you laughed as he lay down between your legs, resting his head on your stomach. “So what movie do you wanna watch?” you turned the TV on and looked down at him “What’s on netflix premium?” “What the hell is netflix premium??” he just shrugged at your confused expression “thought youd have special netflix but i guess not.” he sighed in faux disappointment and you ruffled his hair. “Shut up.”

Osamu:

It was actually Osamu’s idea to visit your childhood home, he wanted to see where you grew up and thought it’d be a nice break from work. “Babe put the GPS on” “I think i know how to get there ‘Samu i lived there most my life.” An hour later and you were lost so Osamu switched to driving and you put the GPS on reluctantly.

Upon arrival Osamu was shocked, you’d mentioned your home was big but he wasn’t expecting this. Stone pillars at the front with high ceilings and flawless designs was not what he pictured. “Woah y/n this place is gorgeous...is this why you always buy ME coffee in the mornings?” “Samu it’s my parents money” you laughed as you led him to the front doors. “This is sebastian, i can only think of black butler rn our butler” You bowed and smiled at him before showing Samu up to your room for him to unpack. “Cute bedroom y/n” you looked around your childhood bedrooms, posters from your previous interests still up and f/c walls, “I’ll show you the rest of the house but just wait till you see the kitchen babe you’ll love it!” you grabbed his arm leading him out “I love the whole house babe.”

After touring through the gardens and rooms on the first and second floors you led him into the kitchen which currently had a few maids inside laying down ingredients. They smiled sweetly at you before exiting and you nodded appreciatively. You looked over at Samu who’s jaw was slack. “Sooo i know this is a bit bigger than your kitchen so i was going to let you use it, if you wanted of course, i have some ingredients to make onigiri since you wanted to teach me how to-“ before you could finish Osamu’s lips were pressed against yours and his hand cupped your cheek. “I’d love to teach you.”

You stood next to Samu watching as he sculpted the onigiri and you copied what he did. He smiled watching your actions, a smile only reserved for you and then pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “So do you wanna eat these in the gardens when the sun sets?” you look over at him before humming “Hmm romantic Samu, how about the roof?” you smiled up at him. “I’d like that”.

After you’d cleaned up in the kitchen you brought the onigiri to the roof and settled into the blankets and pillows Osamu had set up. “The view up here rivals the house honestly” you hummed in agreement, looking out to the pinks and oranges painting the sky while curling into Osamu’s side.

The sun had set by the time you’d finished the onigiri but you wanted to stargaze so you fixed yourself to lie with your head on Samu’s chest while he played with the ends of your hair. “Thank you for bringing me here y/n, it’s beautiful” you turned onto your stomach and looked at him “Of course babe, i’m glad you like it, we can make pancakes together in the morning too if you want.” he smiled and pecked your lips before pressing a longer kiss to your forehead. “Sounds good babe.” You turned back over to admire the stars while Samu fiddled with the small box in his left pocket, a ring that shone just as bright as the stars sitting inside.

Suna

Suna was excited to visit your childhood home because he was missing your little brother who he’d only met a few times. You wanted to spend christmas with your family and Suna was happy to spend it with them too this year, and so you both got in the car and made your way there.

“Is this a government building or an apartment complex from a couple centuries ago” Suna asked you sarcastically, although he was admiring the exterior of the palace-like home. “C’mon let’s go greet everyone.” you chuckled and took his hand leading him inside.

He was starstruck at how extravagant the interior was and made this clear by standing still in the hallway just staring all around. “Y/N, i cannot believe you make me pay for dinner on dates..” you laughed and kissed him on the cheek “I spoiled you for christmas just wait until the morning.” You both greeted your parents and the maids that were around before sitting down for some drinks while they prepared christmas eve dinner. “Suna?” your little brother walked out of the lounge room and ran up to Suna, hugging him. “Oh wow i guess i’m not here then.” you rolled your eyes before your brother gave you a hug too.

After dinner and small talk with your family, you were talking with your mother taking up the bags to your room. “Is Suna settled in?” she asked “Oh he’s playing video games with aki, he gave him a small tour too.” “oh that’s nice, he seems a lot happier around you and so do you” “oh thank you mum” you hugged your mum before going into your room and changing into your pyjamas.

You walked into the theatre room and saw Suna playing with your brother on the playstation. “Suna wanna come to bed? Aki should go to sleep soon too” He nodded before following you up to your room. “M tired” he cling onto you and flopped into the bed. “Hmm let’s get some sleep, we’ve got a big day tomorrow.” “This house is huge Y/N i think we should split the bill from now on when we go out.” you chuckled and ran your fingers through his hair as you settled under the covers comfortably “sure thing baby, goodnight.” He hummed against you “love you” “i love you too rin.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #suna rintaro #suna #suna fluff #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #atsumu miya #osamu miya x reader #osamu x reader #osamu fluff #miya osamu #anon requests #anon

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buckysgoldenheart · 4 years

Text

Watching You

Walter Marshall x Reader

Summary: Walter did not like to waste time on stupid things, and being asked by some young troublemaker to start following an ex-girlfriend around fell under that category. At least, it did, until he found out just who the ex-girlfriend was.

Words: 2334

Warnings: Cursing. Slight smut. Not Edited or anything of the sort, so expect little!

Note: This is just something I had saved that I thought I’d post while I finish up the Vampire Henry Series (Unexpectedly Bitten). I plan to post the rest of that fic all at once, most likely this weekend. As always, comments are appreciated :)

What a no-good loser. That’s what Walter thought the second Jimmy Masters walked through the front door of his office on a Saturday evening. He was a good six inches shorter than Walter, much scrawnier, ten years younger at least, and in desperate need of a haircut. He was the kind of kid Walter hated, the kind of kid that had probably seen the inside of a jailcell for a night or two for some stupid, petty crime, yet refused to learn his lesson.

Walter’s eyebrow arched in disinterest and he sat back in his chair, arms crossed as a coworker led the kid inside.

“We think this falls in your area, Marshall.”

Walter had only nodded and told the boy to sit to explain his reason for interrupting the first moment of peace in the day.

“I got a friend who says detectives know how to follow people real well,” Jimmy said, his voice an aggravating tone that Walter already couldn’t stand.

Walter cleared his throat. “Your friend is rather astute.”

“What?”

The detective blew out a breath, exhausted after speaking with the kid for less than a minute. “Just tell me what you want.” And when Jimmy was done with his pitch, Walter said with a sigh, “You want me to follow a girl that clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you?”

“No, man. She loves me. She does. She’s just confused right now, and I gotta make sure there’s no other guy, ya know? I don’t want her messing around. It’s disrespectful.”

Walter heaved out another long sigh, rubbing at his temples. “But she’s your ex-girlfriend.”

Jimmy shook his head, his shaggy, dusty-blond hair swaying vigorously with the motion. “That’s temporary.”

Snorting, Walter sat up in his chair. “Sure it is. Look, you think maybe she just isn’t interested anymore?”

“Hey, I’m not here for additional commentary. Can you help me or not?”

“From what you’ve said, she’s not breaking any laws, she’s not a danger to herself or others, so I have no reason to—”

“Please, man. Please,” Jimmy said, putting his palms together in lame prayer. Walter was sure this boy hadn’t prayed to anything in his entire life. “I’ll never step foot in here again if you help me out just this once.”

Walter eyed the kid, trying to weight the pros and cons of wasting his time on something so inane, but if it got the little, blond twit to go away, then he figured there were worse things. It had been a slow week as it was. He groaned and grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. “Fine. What’s her name?”

------------------------------------------------------

“Walter,” You said, trying to hold back any emotion in your voice as you moved aside to let him pass the threshold into your small apartment. As habit had it, you were much happier to see him than you wished. Walter always had a way of lighting your every nerve on fire from just your bodies being in the same room. You couldn’t help wanting him, missing him, but you hid it well.

As he walked in, his body trailed the outside chill behind, sending a shiver down your spine. Then he pulled the beanie you’d bought him off his head and turned to face you. Though the irritated look on his face was not an uncommon one, you didn’t appreciate it directed at you.

You crossed your arms. “Well?” Walter hung around quite often until you had asked him to quit it, and though he didn’t usually listen to you--putting his own concerns above your wishes--you knew he held a respect for you that made him at least try to keep his distance. If he was stopping by now…well, it could only bring you trouble, but not seeing his face in so long had you more lenient.

“Why is some punk walking into my precinct and asking me to follow you?”

Your eyebrows rose. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me. How many punks could you possibly have hanging around?”

Being a decade older, Walter often made you laugh at his distaste for younger adults. You were the one exception, he’d always said, but all others were ‘punks.’ He feared the day Faye had to deal with boys your age, if she were ever so unlucky. “You met Jimmy?”

His fists kept clenching and unclenching, his shoulders somehow broadened, and the frown on his face made his eyebrows pinch and dip deep. “This idiot is really attached to you, Y/N.”

The more he spoke, the more you realized that ‘irritated’ may have been too sweet a word for what Walter really was. “He just doesn’t like his ego being bruised.”

Walter shrugged off his winter coat and tossed it on the couch as if it was still normal for him to do so, then ran a hand through the dark, messy curls you always loved. “Why the hell are you messing around with a--?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not messing around with him anymore.”

“Well, he seems to think it’s temporary.”

“It’s not.”

Crossing his arms, Walter shook his head like a disappointed parent would at their bratty, misbehaving child; the way you’d seen him look at Faye every time he found out she was spending too much time on social media. “Stay away from this guy, alright?”

“You would tell me to stay away from any guy,” You mumbled to yourself with a snort.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.”

“Do not give me attitude,” He snapped back. “You’re not being safe! If you were, maybe we wouldn’t be having this conversation!"

Instantly, your shoulders stooped and the same old headache began to form. “Not this again, Walt. According to you I’m never safe unless I’m in your line of sight.”

“Yes!” He yelled, stomping your way, stopping just short of ramming his body through yours. “Now if only you could stay in it!”

“You can’t have eyes on me all day every day.”

“The hell I can’t!”

“You promised, Walter.” You let out a small whine. “I told you it was too hard for me to keep seeing you around wherever I went, and you promised you would stop watching me.” You wished it didn’t have to be that way. You wished seeing his face didn’t bring on such a potent punch of pain, but it did. Every single day when you left your apartment, you saw him standing by his car, a coffee cup in hand, unashamedly watching you like some creep. Eventually, you stopped looking in the direction you knew he would be, hoping you may forget he was there at all, but you always felt his eyes on you; such a strong stare, he might as well have been touching you. But you couldn’t take it. Months of your every move being tracked by the man you loved but couldn’t have was taking its toll, and so you begged him to leave you alone, to give you some relief.

“I did stop, and what happened? Barely a month after I made that stupid promise, some dumb, obsessed kid comes asking me to stalk you.”

You leaned back against the wall, growing more exhausted by the minute. “Well, with all the past practice you’ve had watching my every move, I’d say he was rather smart to pick you of all people. Shitty coincidence that he would though, since now I’m getting lectured.”

“I am not lecturing you.”

“Fine, but whatever this is you’re doing here, you’re out of line. My business is not your business anymore. It hasn’t been your business for the last five months.”

“Your little boyfriend came to me,” He said, pointing a finger at his chest, “so yes, it is my bus--”

“It is not!” You bit back. “You could’ve turned him away. You could’ve told him not to follow me around unless he was itching to get a restraining order, but you didn’t, did you? You took this opportunity to check up on me. Again!”

He stepped back, looking as if you had slapped him. His aggressive, guarded barrier of emotions cracked, and you could see the vulnerability he hadn’t shown since your relationship ended.

“Walter” You sighed, “You’re the one who stepped back. You’re the one who said it would be best if we weren’t in a relationship. You said I was a distraction and—”

“I said you’d be at risk, not that you’re a distraction.”

“It doesn’t make a difference.”

“Damn it, Y/N, it does! I only did it because I love you!” He said without hesitation, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You know that!”

You blinked. “No, I did not know that! You seriously broke up with me because you love me? That’s ridiculous.”

“I broke up with you to keep you safe, but I clearly suffered for nothing seeing as you put yourself in unsafe situations even without my association.”

You wanted to believe him, so bad, but people don’t leave behind the ones they love. After all, you loved him and the thought of leaving him made you nauseous, even now. When you were together, he may have appeared in love, but after a year he still hadn’t told you and you knew you’d let yourself get a little too hopeful. If you were honest with yourself, him breaking up with you was not as much of a shock as it should’ve been. But as you looked at him now, you could see that he truly believed you already knew.

“It doesn’t make sense that you would do that,” You said. “People don’t just break up with someone they love.”

“Fuck, Y/N, did I ever seem unhappy with you? Did I ever come across like I didn’t want you every second of every day? My every other thought was of you,” He said loudly, like a rant, and you were having a hard time figuring out who he was mad at. “So don’t try to tell me how I felt, and feel now. I still love you and that’s not going to change, but I can’t have criminals, murderers even, coming after you because they are pissed at me for hunting them down or having a case against them. It would take nothing for the average officer or detective to figure out that you and I were together even if we were hiding it. How hard do you think it would be for some psychopath?”

You hadn’t realized a tear slipped down your cheek until you tasted it at the corner of your lips. It was salty but somehow bitter and left a thick burning path along your skin. You quickly wiped it away. “Why didn’t you tell me this months ago?”

“Because, stubborn as you are, you wouldn’t have listened. You would have told me it didn’t matter.” He fell backwards onto the couch, closing his eyes and letting out a groan. “I try to do the right thing. I try to protect you, thinking everything will be fine as long as no one can link you to me, but I can’t…stay away.” His eyes met yours. “And then you beg me to, and it’s excruciating to obey. When I was able to watch over you, it reminded me that I did the right thing. You were safe and I could constantly be reassured of that.”

You walked over to him, your heart thumping with every step, then sat on your knees in front of him, placing your hand atop his own resting on his thigh. His other hand reached for your face and his fingers softly grazed your cheek before they tucked some hair behind your ear. “Walt—”

“That kid…Jimmy,” Walter interrupted as he began tracing the back of your hand with his thumb. “He thinks you’re in love with him.”

“I’m not.”

“You swear?”

“Of course, Walt. I told you--”

“I know,” He said with a single nod of his head. “I know. Maybe I’ll actually get some sleep now.”

You rested your cheek on the inner side of his knee and said, “You could sleep here.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” You bit your lip nervously. You couldn’t even dare to count how many times you’d had sex during the course of your relationship, but now, asking him not to leave made your pulse thrum in your ears.

He leaned forward and looked down at you. “Because I don’t think I can say no to you.”

“Then why would you bother trying,” You whispered without a second thought and slowly inched up on your knees so you could connect your lips with his.

It lasted only a second or two before he broke the kiss, grabbed you by the arm, and yanked you onto his lap. His grip at the back of your neck pulled your mouth to his as your hand slipped between your bodies and quickly started to undo his belt buckle.

“God, baby,” Walter groaned against your lips when you wrapped your fingers around his thick cock and released it from his jeans. He pulled the ratty, old t-shirt of his over your shoulders and softly settled his hands on your hips. “Damn it.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just…missed these,” He said, placing a kiss on one bare breast, then the other. “I missed you, so much.” He placed his lips to the curve of your neck, then met your eyes. “I miss you every fucking day.”

You kissed his forehead, and his arms tightened around you as you lifted your hips and sank down onto him. “I missed you too, Walter,” You said, but the words melted somewhere within the mix of your moans and his groans.

------------------

Tags: @agniavateira @forthebrokenheartedthings @summersong69 @starlite13 @mstgsmy @purplelove75 @defffcc @the-soot-sprite @kissthatlifeaway @atomicpaperhairdouniversity @aquariuslavenderhoney @harrysthiccthighss @the-problem-of-leisure @meganwinchester1999

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zigtheeortega · 3 years

Text

incomparable

pairing | logan x mc

word count | 7.4k

warnings | there’s a lot of angst in this one, and it’s definitely an emotional hurt/comfort fic! if you don’t like the idea of logan trying to move on, then this one isn’t for you!

tags | @raleighcarrera, @pixeljazzy, @senatorraines, @dionneserrano, @blainehayes, @rodappreciationweek

author’s note | a while ago, my sweet friend and fellow mod @/pixeljazzy suggested a fic plot that’s angsty and absolutely demonic, aka logan tries to move on, so i decided to write it! i’d been working on this before the mods decided to create the time capsule challenge, so i’m very content that this fits into the theme well !!! and to clarify, this is an au where my mc raquel writes down her experience with the mpc and ends up publishing it and unintentionally becomes a best selling author! also yes rodaw brought me out of my choices writing break and i’m not mad at it at all

•─────────────────•

She wasn’t Raquel.

That much was obvious – she was taller. Her shoulders were broader. Her hair was short, bluntly cut at her collarbones, and dark brown.

She was tattoo free. The skin of her arm was bare – a clean slate. Untouched.

She seemed more innocent, too. Not in the way that Raquel was when they first met.

This woman was grown with a full time job and a comfy apartment in the heart of the city, but… there was something missing.

She probably had no clue that there was a seedy underbelly to her home. Didn’t have the misfortune of crossing paths with someone like him when he was at his worst.

She was privileged enough to go about her life while a whole microcosm of crime happened right under her nose. And she didn’t want to know. Didn’t need to know.

Logan wasn’t exactly jazzed to shatter another woman’s innocence the way he did with Raquel.

This girl seemed… safe. Level headed, secure, and millions of miles away from the life he’d abandoned.

It kind of happened by accident. Meeting her, that is.

It wasn’t a carefully crafted “accident” like with Raquel. She actually just… caught his eye.

He’d gotten an honest job as a mechanic on the outskirts of L.A., working mostly with the struggling working class that had long been banished to the dingiest corners, despite being the most important cogs in the city’s machine.

The autoshop was family owned, and had been for generations – the owner, Nicandro, had accepted Logan as his own, and Logan had practically become a part of the Alvarez family.

He hadn’t anticipated finding his own home in the same city that’d chewed him up and spat him out time and time again.

A couple months into working there, he was finally settling into his routine. Nine-to-five job on weekdays, community college classes on weekends, and the occasional Saturday mass when he was invited by the Alvarezes.

He was functioning. He had a routine. And then this girl came in and disrupted it all.

The Honda Civic girl.

When the average looking car pulled up outside, he didn’t give it a second glance.

He went back to work, arms deep in the engine, grimy and stained from repairing Miss Anita’s ancient artifact she insisted on saving even though it was less than a thousand miles away from crumbling cartoon-style till only the wheels were left.

(But she was family to the Alvarezes, so Nicandro insisted on repairing the car for free nearly every week when she needed something new tweaked.)

He heard her voice from across the room and still didn’t look up from his hands.

“Hi, this is embarrassing, but my engine light thingy came on and I have no clue what it means,” she said with a nervous laugh. “I’m on my way out of town for a couple of days, so I thought I’d stop and get it checked out before you closed for the night.”

“Aye, Lo, can you help her out real quick? We’ve gotta truck coming in with parts soon and I gotta keep watch,” Nicandro called across the garage, shooting Logan a toothy grin as soon as he looked up.

“Sure,” Logan smiled politely, scrubbing his forearm over his brow, the sweat managing to hold a couple strands of his hair captive against his skin.

He was assuming it’d be a typical oil change, but the second she came into view, the ghost of the last time he left L.A. gripped his heart and squeezed until adrenaline shot through every vein in his body.

Her t-shirt, tucked neatly into her denim shorts, read “Langston”.

It wasn’t the sweatshirt, but it was the same design, same color.

He knew staying in L.A. was a gamble, but he was willing to risk it. Staying away from Raquel was priority for her safety, but… he couldn’t bury the inkling of hope that pushed its way to the surface when he walked into a coffee shop or a bookstore – places he knew she’d love.

Once he saw the shirt and her big brown eyes, he was done for.

She wasn’t Raquel, but something about her lived in this stranger.

Before he could stop himself, he was comparing her to his first love – a disaster waiting to happen.

Their first date was anything but – she insisted on bringing him a vanilla milkshake from his favorite burger place to his work.

“How’d you know I was working?” He asked earnestly, mirroring her soft smile.

“I didn’t. Nicandro told me vanilla milkshakes were your favorite and I didn’t want to ruin the surprise so…” she shrugged, her cheeks flushed. “I’ve, uh, brought milkshakes up here every day this weekend.”

He laughed – a real genuine surprised laugh – and took a sip from the styrofoam cup. “You didn’t let them go to waste, did you?”

“Nah, Nicandro’s been really happy with me.”

“Yum,” he hummed. “I’m happy with you, too.”

She grinned in delight, taking a sip from hers. “I’m glad my hard work paid off.”

She stayed there for his whole lunch break, and they chatted, casual conversation with no substance, and he actually enjoyed himself.

The last time he remembered having casual conversations about nothing with a girl his age, he was curled underneath the sheets with Raquel, tracing the outlines of her sleeve of tattoos. He could’ve listened to her talk for hours.

This girl… she was pretty tolerable – she listened to him (hung on every word, even) and cared about what he had to say, even though it was a laid back, low stakes conversation.

“My name’s Renée, you know. I realized I haven’t told you,” she smiled, resting her cheek on her hand. She was facing him, and they were seated on the same side of the old wooden table out back behind the garage.

“Renée,” he repeated, shaking the styrofoam cup to gather the last bit of milkshake at the bottom before tipping it back to lap it up. “I’m Logan.”

“Logan,” she nodded. “It suits you.”

“S’not my real name,” he shrugged.

He didn’t know why he was telling her that. If he told her too much, it’d end the same.

She tipped her own cup back, tapping the bottom to get little stray ice chunks out. “Fine by me. I still think it suits you.”

She was way too trustworthy of a man she didn’t know, but… wasn’t that what attracted him to Raquel in the first place?

Without a shred of judgement in her eyes, Raquel took everything Logan said as the truth, despite how many times he’d fucked up. Betrayed her.

Renée didn’t look at him like he was a criminal and… well… he wasn’t one anymore. He was still in the criminal mindset, though, since he’d been ostracized for so damn long.

The next couple weeks were uncomfortable – not because Renée made him uncomfortable in the slightest. If anything, she was doing the opposite, and that was the problem.

He’d had to reopen himself to caring about another woman, and to say it was a difficult task was an understatement. The gates were stubborn, rusted shut, so much so that he had to force them apart, ignoring the grating screech of metal and the inevitable pain that came with being vulnerable again.

They went on a few dinner dates. She brought him lunch at work. She invited him to her apartment. They went to a food truck festival together.

Renée disrupted his routine, and it was a breath of fresh air.

He’d gotten so comfortable with his quaint life and his work family that he hadn’t pushed himself to do much more than that.

But the first time she held his hand, he froze.

She casually grabbed his hand to lead him through a crowd and his body reacted like he’d been electrocuted. It wasn’t wrong, but it felt wrong.

“Are you good?”

“I’m fine,” he reassured her, wiping his clammy palm against his jeans before letting her grab his hand again.

It wasn’t wrong, but it was wrong.

He should’ve ended it that moment, but he didn’t. He’d convinced himself that if he could push through the initial weirdness of it all, he’d be happy. Eventually.

So he went through the motions with her, trying his hardest to push his comparisons of her to Raquel to the back of his mind, but every so often it’d bubble to the surface.

It’d manifest in the most random ways.

She liked Coke icees, not cherry.

Oh we watched that rom-com together, and she hated it because it was too corny.

She likes that TV show as background noise because she thinks it’s dumb, and I do, too.

It was unhealthy to think of Raquel that much – to compare Renée to her that much – but he couldn’t help it.

The last time he was happy, safe, loved, was with Raquel. He hadn’t chased that feeling for a long time (because he wasn’t sure he could find it again), but with Renée he was getting closer to what he used to have.

Maybe it was selfish, but he wanted that warmth – that comfort – again.

She wasn’t Raquel, but she’d have to do.

A month into their casual dating, Renée kissed him. Well, she tried.

She’d insisted on driving him to a boujee rooftop bar near her place and was thoroughly buzzed off a couple of cosmopolitans less than an hour into them being there.

The party was in full swing around them, the corny ass cover band on their fourth “tribute” to Billy Joel.

He was out of his element to say the least.

Just as he was about to lean over to tell her he needed to use the bathroom, she’d wrapped her arms around his neck and smashed her mouth against his, planting sloppy, sugary, open mouthed kisses on his parted lips, frozen in shock.

“Logan,” she breathed, squeezing him tighter, not even registering how tense he was.

“Renée… hey, hey,” he said, gently but firmly pulling her away from him. “I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink.”

Her big brown eyes welled up with tears and his chest twinged with guilt, the distant memory of the first time he’d betrayed Raquel floating around the back of his brain.

“I’m sorry I – I don’t know what came over me –” she turned away from him, dabbing her eyes with the crook of her finger.

“It’s okay. No need to apologize,” he reassured her, rubbing his palm in small circles on her back. “We’re good.”

“I wanted our first kiss to be special and I royally screwed that up,” she sighed, swivelling back till she was facing him again.

“Can’t do worse than me.”

She chewed her lip, trying to hold back a smile. “Oh yeah?”

“I was a girl’s first kiss… five minutes after we’d outrun the cops.”

Her laugh was a surprised one, her bright smile replacing her disappointed expression almost immediately.

“That’s surprising. I never pegged you as a law breaking type,” she blinked, the alcohol clearly making her a bit more ballsy than she normally was.

It was his turn to laugh – he doubled over, nearly knocking over her half empty glass in the process.

“I used to be quite a troublemaker.”

Despite her not-so-subtle hints over the next few weeks, he couldn’t bring himself to kiss her.

She probably thought he was the prudiest of the prudes, the local catholic church’s golden boy, the working man’s poster child of abstinence till marriage.

He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Yet.

He was wearing himself down more and more each day – he was on the track to kiss her in… a couple months to a year. Probably.

Two months in, she invited him to a swanky event her job was hosting.

She was one of many accountants working in the financial department for a large publishing company. She had a really cool gig, and she knew it. She never bragged, but she was proud of her accomplishments.

So why was she dating a mechanic who was making a third of her income? He had no idea.

Either way, he tried to enjoy himself. The car that picked them up was luxurious, and that and the food and booze reflected just how much money their company had made that year.

The venue was huge and packed to the brim with hundreds of people, the standing tables a couple feet apart all throughout the ballroom.

“Damn, they weren’t playing around with this, huh?” He mused, taking a sip from his mug, filled to the brim with locally brewed beer.

“Yep, they’re serious about giving a warm welcome to new authors,” Renée said over the rim of her drink, gesturing vaguely to the room around them.

“Yeah, so is that what they’re doing?”

“Mhmm. Every year we hold a big party to celebrate our deals for that year. It’s really just to pat ourselves on the back and give our new authors a sense of comfort here, you know?”

“Can I get a booklist or something? I might wanna check out some of these books afterwards. I feel guilty as hell eating duck, drinking their expensive ass alcohol, and rolling back home without, ya know, doing anything,” he shrugged, the fabric of his hand me down suit straining with effort at the motion.

“One of the authors insisted on not being included in any of the party promos so… she kinda ruined it for everybody. But she’s our number one best seller for this year, so…” she rolled her eyes, tipping back the last of her cosmo.

“And don’t worry about it. We budgeted for this and we’re good,” Renée nodded, giving Logan’s hand a squeeze over the table.

“So what’s the itinerary for the night?” Logan asked, rolling his mug around by its base, the beer swirling around the edges, just barely kissing the rim, but not quite overflowing.

It was stupid to relate to a fucking mug of beer, but he did.

Anytime he pushed himself to his limit with Renée, he retreated, never breaking past that threshold, that barrier he set in place for himself long before he’d ever met her.

“The President is gonna give some speech – he’s that guy right there –” she said, scooting around the table till her arm was pressed against the sleeve of his jacket, “Then the Vice President – that woman – is gonna introduce the guests of honor, and they’ll give introductions. Then a brief presentation from my boss about how much money we raked in this year, then… yep. We can leave.”

“Sounds painless enough.”

She laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Thanks for coming with me, Lo. I really appreciate it.”

Before he could register what was happening, she’d tipped his chin towards her, pressing a tender, gracious kiss on his lips.

She pulled back, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

He mirrored her smile, but inside he was screaming.

He felt nothing. The kiss elicited absolutely nothing from him.

She kissed him and it felt like he was kissing a friend. Completely platonic.

He’d sunk months into getting comfortable with her just for it to blow up in his face. The second he’d let his guard down so things could progress naturally, it backfired.

He’d taken Raquel for granted. Being with her was so effortless that he didn’t have to think about it, and he let that slip away without trying to get her back.

He thought he was doing the right thing by her, but it was hurting him more than he’d ever anticipated.

It wasn’t that he considered her another notch in the bedpost. It was the opposite – the bedpost didn’t exist anymore.

There was only her. No one else. No matter how many times he tried to remedy his broken heart, it’d just bring him right back to her: the only woman that ever had the privilege of making herself a home there.

“I, uh, need to go to the restroom. Excuse me,” he said, jabbing his thumbs toward the double doors, heading outside before she had a chance to respond.

He pushed his way out of the room, his heart in time with the slap of his shoes against the flooring.

As soon as he was out of the doors, he kept walking, striding past the laggards mingling in the hallway, past the bathrooms, past the security, till he felt the dirty L.A. air coat his lungs.

God, if he could only catch his breath maybe he could go back in there and salvage the night. Maybe even make himself look less like a skittish idiot.

Despite the fact that his brain was wired to unintentionally treat her like a friend, he didn’t want to hurt this girl.

He didn’t smoke often – just a taste of nicotine when he was drunk or the occasional cigarette when he was stressed.

There was a crumpled pack in his glove box that’d been there for months.

Why didn’t he just drive? He was fucking stranded. He couldn’t run. Couldn’t put distance between him and this situation that he’d willingly put himself in.

None of this was Renée’s fault. There wasn’t a single aspect of the situation that was her fault.

She was a girl who wanted to date a boy because of reciprocated interest.

He felt like the biggest loser in the world. Here she was, a beautiful girl with a lust for life and ambitions that dwarfed anything he’d ever imagined for himself.

And all she wanted to do was love him.

And he wouldn’t let her. Couldn’t let her.

His back slid against the brick wall until he was squatting, arms braced against his knees while he tried to gulp down fresh air as fast as the wind whipped at him.

He’d managed to find the one corner of the building that was completely unoccupied. For once, he was thankful for his gut instinct to lurk in the shadows.

He’d barely gotten a minute of solitude before the door closest to him flew open, a blur of tulle streaking across his peripheral.

The person’s breaths were labored, panicked, as they ran the opposite direction until they were at the edge of the pavement.

They bent down, just like he had, and clasped both hands over their mouth, letting out a small muffled scream.

When she was finished with that, she tilted her chin upwards, her skin illuminated by the light from the parking lot that spilled onto their side of the building.

If he thought breathing was difficult before, it got a whole lot worse when she noticed he was there.

She jumped, yelping like a wounded animal before stumbling back, catching herself with her hands. “Oh my god, I didn’t know anyone was here – I’m sorry –”

Pushing herself back up to stand, she brushed her palms off and shook the tulle skirt clean. “I’m just a little stressed. Sorry again for the outburst.”

That can’t be her. There’s no way, he thought, his mouth drying out when he got a clear view of her face.

“Raquel?” He asked, timidly, voice cracking on the first syllable.

She froze, searching the shadows, her hands white knuckling her skirt.

He didn’t speak, and neither did she. He couldn’t tell how long they’d been quiet when he pushed himself to his full height and took a step towards her.

“No, no, no, there’s no way,” she whispered, stumbling backwards, catching herself on the brick wall.

“It’s – uh, it’s me –” he said, laying his palm flat against his chest. “It’s Logan.”

His voice trembled, the effort of speaking (despite nearly being rendered speechless) was more than he could handle – it was as if he had to manually pick up his words like stones and drop them, and they were heavy, and he was weak.

She slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. She didn’t respond.

“I… uh, what are you doing here?” He asked finally, forcing the question past his lips.

If he didn’t say something he’d be drinking her in all night. It’d been a couple years, but she looked exactly the same.

Yeah, her hair was mid-length, the ombre traded for a black tone, and she’d gotten a few more tattoos that he could see, but she was the same old Raquel.

Same old Raquel, but professionally styled. He wasn’t self conscious of his hand-me-down suit until he noticed how polished she looked.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she breathed, a strained tone followed by a struggled breath.

His heart dropped to his stomach. He’d completely forgotten about Renée.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened and closed it again, like a fucking fish out of water. There was no way to beat around it.

“I’m a plus one.”

Her perfectly gelled brows furrowed, and his gut clenched at the motion.

He was scared as hell, but damn did she look exactly like she did when she was hunched over a textbook, scrawling notes as quick as her brain summarized the words on the page.

“You didn’t… deliberately come here to see me?” She asked, searching his face for something (the truth, probably).

He ran a hand through his unruly hair, an inch or so shorter than she’d last seen it.

Why’d he have to run into her after he’d gotten a trim? He’d imagined this moment going so many different ways, and every scenario he’d pictured them looking like they did the moment they parted – if he had it his way, every detail would be exactly the same as the day he disappeared into the night, from his head down to his shoes.

“I, uh… No, I didn’t,” he stammered, taking another step her way, and that time she didn’t move back.

Shaking her head, she watched him, expression incredulous. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Just because I didn’t come here for you doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see you,” he said, reaching out towards her.

He thought she’d flinch away, but she stayed planted in place, her eyelids fluttering shut when he stroked the pad of his thumb against her jaw, revelling in how soft her skin was. Just like he remembered.

“So beautiful,” he murmured. “The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

She turned her head just enough till she could kiss his palm, leaving a streak of lipgloss on his calloused skin. “This doesn’t feel real.”

“It is, baby,” he reassured her, before testing her even further by tugging her into a hug. “This isn’t a dream, but it sure feels like one.”

She ran her hands across his back, like she was refamiliarizing herself with his frame, before squeezing him tight, her arms shaking with effort. “You smell exactly the same.”

He laughed, burying his nose into her crown, pressing a kiss there. “You do, too. Like lavender’n’heaven.”

Raquel was in front of him, just as warm and pretty as she was the last time he’d seen her. She even felt the same in his arms, molding to his shape like no time had passed.

Adrenaline surged in his veins, and he took advantage of his momentary courage by tipping her chin upward to get a good look at her.

God, she was so fucking pretty.

Nothing else mattered to him anymore. His mechanic job, his car, his friendships, his home in L.A. –

He’d made a home in those dark brown eyes, and he was willing to drop everything and follow her to the ends of the earth if that meant he’d be back in the one home he’d ever known.

She blinked away a few tears, her bottom lip trembling, dimpling her chin.

He cupped her face between his palms, cradling her face as gently as he would with something breakable, soaking in the moment for as long as he could.

He could’ve held her like that and re-committed every inch of her face to memory, but she broke first, closing the gap by pressing her lips against his and Christ did she taste sweet.

Their mouths, arms, bodies, slotted together perfectly, not an inch of space between them.

Just as he parted his lips for her, she stiffened, retreating from him immediately.

“You taste like cherry. I hate cherry.”

Her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip. “You hate cherry.”

He went rigid, the details from a few minutes before flooding back to him. Renée was wearing cherry gloss.

“Oh my god… you’re here with someone?” She asked, but she said it with such conviction, because she knew it was true, and she was begging for it not to be.

His mouth popped open and shut again. “I’m sorry –” “You don’t have to apologize. You’ve moved on and that’s okay. I’m happy for you.” Her voice was trembling with each word – the stones were heavy, and she was struggling, and he could tell.

“No, Raquel, it’s not like that. I promise –”

“Please don’t make me any promises, Lo. I don’t know if my heart can take it,” she said, palms up in surrender.

And she said his nickname. It sounded wrong coming from anyone but her.

“I’m serious, baby, I didn’t think I’d see you again, especially at a schmooze fest like this.”

She blinked, once, twice, processing what he’d said. “So… not only did you insult me by showing up with another woman, but you’re insulting this event that I’ve worked so hard to attend, and you’re insulting me.”

“Raquel… I never meant it that way, I… I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

He dug the heel of his palms into his eyes, groaning in frustration. “I stayed in L.A. in case I ever saw you again, but I didn’t think it’d be this soon, and I dreamed up lots of scenarios but none of them went like this. I fucked it up majorly and I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t fucking know.”

She didn’t say anything for a while, her arms folded across her chest while she mulled over his words. “I never tried moving on.”

It hit him like a gut punch, grabbing his organs and twisting till pain shot throughout his body. “You didn’t?” Was all he could manage.

“No, I couldn’t. There’s no way I could when I’m still in love with you.”

She screwed her eyes shut, a sob leaving her before she could contain it.

“Raquel, please believe me –” Logan pleaded, stepping towards her. “If I woulda known you were gonna be here, trust me, I’d be dressed better and you’d be my date and I’d be showing you off to the world –”

Her watch buzzed, startling the both of them. “I… have to go. We can talk after, if you want.”

“Yes, please. That’s all I want,” he laced his fingers with hers, gently tugging her hand towards his lips to press a soft kiss on her knuckles. “I’ll find you after. I promise.”

Giving him one last once over, drinking him in, like she was second guessing if he was real, she stepped back through the doors.

He took a few deep breaths to compose himself before heading in – explaining his outburst to Renée hadn’t crossed his mind till he walked back inside.

He made his way back to the table, running over how he was going to apologize, but nothing stuck. He couldn’t think of anything but Raquel.

Renée was sipping on her second drink of the night, and his beer looked like it’d been dipped into as well.

“Are you okay?” She asked immediately. “I’m sorry about kissing you like that I just – I just thought you were comfortable enough. I screwed up again, Lo, and I’m so sorry.”

“Renée…” He couldn’t get over how unnatural “Lo” sounded coming from her. “The way I’ve been acting has nothing to do with you, okay? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Kinda sounds like you’re breaking up with me,” she laughed once, rolling her eyes. They widened as soon as it dawned on her. “Wait… are you?”

“Can we talk outside? I really want you to hear me out –” “Logan, if you’re gonna dump me, at least respect me enough to not do it in the parking lot,” she sighed, chugging the rest of her drink.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed, sliding his half empty mug of beer her way. “I do respect you, though. A lot. You’re an amazing person.”

Sighing, she tipped back the beer, gulping until he could see her eyes through the transparent bottom of the glass. “I’ve definitely heard this spiel before.”

“I’m gonna tell you this story, and you’re probably not gonna believe it, but it’s true, and it was my life – it is my life,” he started, leaning against the table so she could hear his low tone.

“Years ago, I met the woman of my dreams, and she was innocent and way too fucking good for me. I was breaking the law daily by doing jobs with crews of criminals like me, living off the grid, making money in ways I’m not too proud of.

“She was a part of one of my last jobs before I left L.A. to lay low and I, uh, I fell in love with her. I’m still in love with her. I don’t know what my life would look like if I wasn’t in love with her, you know?”

Her face screwed up in disgust, and she all but slammed the mug down, whispering furiously. “Are you mocking me? Did you seriously just regurgitate the plot of Ride or Die to me? That’s the story you’re going with? One that isn’t even your own?”

“Huh, what? What are you –”

The speakers crackled and a mic squeaked as who Logan assumed to be President tapped the surface of it, cutting off his response.

“Hello everyone, I hope you’re all having a wonderful night so far. As most of you may know, my name is Arnie Harris, and I’m the President of Harris Publishing. When my grandfather founded Harris Publishing back in 1901, he only did so because he wanted to be able to publish a few of his wife’s poems as a gift. Publishers refused to register it under her name, so he made his own company so my grandma could achieve her dream of being a published author, and throughout the years, we’ve been committed to giving voices to women and minorities alike.

“This year’s been one of our best yet, and I’m so thankful to our new authors for seeing something in us and our mission statement. A big thank you to everyone here tonight – Editing, Marketing, Finance, all the staff and employees, hell, the caterers here tonight, valets, everyone. Tonight wouldn’t be possible without you.”

He droned on for a bit longer before the Vice President took the stage, and she began introducing the newest authors that they’d signed that year.

They’d copped quite a few best sellers, which was impressive. Each author took the stage briefly to thank Harris Publishing and give a brief summary of their goals for the next few years.

Renée was ignoring him at that point, refusing to even look his way. He’d be more upset about that if he wasn’t scanning every inch of the room for Raquel, trying desperately to spot the rose colored tulle and midnight hair in the crowd.

“– and the last author of the night, the number one young adult New York Times’ Best Seller for five months and counting, Raquel Olvera with Ride or Die!”

His head snapped towards the stage, his eyes wide. “What the fuck –”

“Renée, she… who…”

“She’s our top seller. The one I said didn’t wanna be in the promos?” She answered flatly, still staring straight ahead.

“Renée, that’s – that’s her, that’s the girl I’m in love with –”

“Oh, please –” She stopped when she saw how genuinely caught off guard he was. “Oh my god, you’re not lying.”

“No, that’s her – I didn’t think – I ran into her outside and she said we’d talk later, but I – I didn’t think she was coming back inside for this –”

“You’re who she wrote about,” Renée whispered, her eyes as wide as Logan’s were, words beginning to slur just a bit. “Holy shit, I just thought the names were a coincidence, but no, you’re him.”

“What… huh?”

“Oh, Logan…” Her eyes filled with tears. “Ride or Die is about you, your old crew, and how she fell in love with you.”

His heart sank. “About me?”

She nodded. “She changed most of the names but kept some, including yours. The ending… you really had to leave L.A. to flee the cops?”

He nodded. “The feds were on our tails.”

“My god… she’s so in love with you. You have to go to her,” Renée shook her head, her hair swaying around her. “No hard feelings at all. You can’t let her go – I’m serious.”

She’d taken the stage, and had begun thanking people while Logan and Renée whispered furiously at each other. By the time they looked up, she was beginning her speech.

“I never really set out to become a writer. Even though I’m a published author, I don’t really feel like one. Every time I step back to assess the response I’ve gotten to ‘Ride or Die’, I’m rendered speechless without fail. I just wanted an outlet to get my story out, and surprisingly – thankfully – the lovely staff of Harris Publishing decided to take a chance on me. I never thought this level of success was possible, and I’m so grateful for everyone here.”

She held for applause, smiling as though she was grateful for each clap.

“But beneath the positivity and praise I’ve received, I’m still healing. I’m still hurting. Most people know that ‘Ride or Die’ is somewhat of a true story. And yes, I know there’ve been discussions on whether this is a fake autobiography and that I wrote this for attention. Honestly, for the first year after they left, I wished that it was fake, because I was in a lot of pain. Emotionally, I was in shambles.

“I’ve loved telling my story as a form of therapy, but I wouldn’t wish this pain on anyone. The love of my life vanished into the night and I couldn’t do a single thing about it. No closure, no healing, no moving on.

“Stagnancy’s been the norm for me for so long that I forgot what life was like when I was smiling every day. I’m still getting used to happiness being an everyday feeling for me.”

Raquel shook her head, taking a deep breath and dabbing at the corner of her eyes. The audience took this cue to clap again, encouraging her to continue.

Logan watched the monitor on the wall, which zoomed into her face, catching her dazzling brown eyes. He was in awe. She was tough as nails with a heart of gold and he still didn’t deserve her.

“I thought that a life without love was bleak, and that I was doomed to suffer because I didn’t know if I’d ever see Logan again.”

She took another deep breath, squaring her shoulders.

“I’ve realized that I’m surrounded by more love than I know what to do with. By those who love my story, who resonate with my story, and who want or already have a Logan of their own. I get to experience love every day through that affirmation, and I took it for granted till… well, tonight, honestly.

“The end of the story wasn’t really the end of the story for me. I thought that ‘Ride or Die’ was the first and final book, and I’ve been terrified for a while that by the time the hype for this book died down, so would my hope, and I’d have to move on… but like I’ve said, the closure I’ve craved is in everyone that carries my story with them. You’re all healing me by making me feel seen and heard and loved.

“This might be a lot for a speech at a fancy event at the publishing company that signed me, but through all of you who’ve made this possible, I feel like the version of me from years ago when I hopped in a sports car with a stranger who later turned out to be the love of my life.

“The adrenaline, the lust for life, feeling alive – I owe it all to you. Thank you.”

The cheers were raucous by the time she stepped off stage.

Logan’s throat was tight – she still loved him no matter how much it hurt.

Jesus fucking Christ, he would never deserve her.

Renée was sniffling next to him, hand over her mouth. “Logan, you seriously need to go to her. You can’t let her get away again.”

He pulled her in for a quick hug, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart. You really do deserve so much better than me.”

She grinned and patted his cheek lightly. “You’ve never been more right.”

He turned, darting towards the doors, shoving past anyone and everyone to get outside.

When he made it out of the doors, he ran smack into Raquel.

Thankfully, the only people outside of the room were the security guards, who’s attention was focused on the front door.

Raquel pulled him down the hallway and stopped at the last door on the left, a sign with her name on it taped to the outside of the door.

She fumbled with the keycard, her hands trembling.

“Shit –” she cursed, the card tumbling from her hands and onto the tile floor.

He snatched it off the ground and scanned it in one swoop. Within seconds, she’d shoved the door open and slammed it behind them.

His heart was racing. The last time she’d been this hasty was their final kiss, and he couldn’t fathom going through that again.

She stood in front of him, his back to the door, her gaze trained on his chest.

From his height he can see that her face is contorted, but she buries her face in her hands before he can get a good look.

“She looks just like me.” Her voice was a mere whisper, like she couldn’t manage anything more than that.

His heart sank to his feet. “Raquel –” “You say you didn’t know I was going to be here, but then why’d you date someone that works at the same company my book’s being published at?”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I didn’t come here with the intention of hurting you,” he started, gently resting a palm on her shoulder. “Especially knowing how hard it’s been for you, I –”

He broke his sentence off, cursing himself. “Shit, I didn’t know you were having just as hard a time as me. I figured you’d go to college and meet someone better than me. I don’t know.”

“You can’t just say you expected me to move on because you clearly haven’t. What, is her name Rachel or something?” She pulled back, putting a step of space between them.

He shook his head. “Renée.”

“It even starts with the same letter,” she shook her head, biting her lip. “You thought I’d move on so you started dating the first person that reminded you of me?”

“I – I’m –” He stuttered, dumbfounded that she’d gotten it in one try, as much as he didn’t want to admit it out loud.

“I want you to understand why I’m upset, Lo. You came back to L.A. because you thought there was a possibility that you’d see me again, but you ‘figured I’d move on’. You’re seeing a girl that looks like she could be related to me, yet you’re avoiding discussing that. “I’m mad because while I’ve been trying to heal, you’ve been making yourself suffer, and that’s not fair to Renée. You had no idea if you were gonna see me again so you tried to get the next best thing. You have to see why that’s fucked up, Lo.”

“Even if I was dating Renée because she reminded me of you, none of that matters now.”

“You can’t just dump Renée because you took one look at the girl you dated for a month years ago and decided you wanted her instead –”

“Stop. Don’t try to downplay your role in my life, Raquel. You’re not ‘just the girl I dated’, alright? I loved you then and I love you now.”

“You can’t love me and string her along at the same time, Logan,” she furiously whispered, her voice nearing hysterics.

He blinked, shaking his head. “Did… you think I was coming here to show you that I’d moved on? And wanted to rub it in your face?”

She chewed the inside of her lip, her dark brown eyes downcast. “Maybe.”

“Renée ended things first. Just now, actually. The minute she realized that I’m the Logan from your book, she told me I needed to go to you,” he reassured her, reaching out to tip her chin up with a crooked finger, forcing her to meet his eye.

“Raquel, I had no fucking clue you’d written about us and the old crew. All these years, I’ve always known how much I love you but… goddamn, I didn’t know you loved me the way I loved you.”

Her eyes glistened, her surprised laugh coming out as a soft sob.

“So… you really do love me? It wasn’t just circumstance?” She asked, leaning into his palm when he slid his hand up to cup her cheek.

“It doesn’t matter how we felt back then, baby. None of that matters now because we fell for each other while we were apart,” he smiled softly, leaning in to press a soft kiss on her lips.

“God, I love you,” she whispered against his lips, deepening the kiss.

“Say it again,” he murmured. “I need to hear it again.”

“I love you,” she repeated, louder, more confident this time. “I’ll say it as many times as you want, as long as you say it back.”

“I love you,” he said, no hesitation, tangling his fingers through her hair and pulling her in again.

The only time they came up for air was to whisper sweet affirmations against each other’s skin before delving back into silently relearning what they could about each other.

Logan had never been the best with words, and he was at peace with that. He knew that when it mattered, he’d show it. And in the dim lighting of Raquel’s green room, he showed her over and over just how much she meant to him.

Kiss by kiss, they adhered themselves to each other, undoubtedly deciding they’d never let each other go again.

She wasn’t Raquel. That much was obvious. She’d grown into much more than the timid girl he’d met on her 18th birthday, and even more than the headstrong driver he’d left behind.

And he loved her this way and that way – any way he could get her. His love for every version of her was boundless, incomparable to anything he’d ever felt before.

#playchoices #choices rod #rod logan #rodaw #rodtimecapsule #jade writes choices fics

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