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peaceoutofthepieces · 3 years

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Tracing Time

Saturday, 08:10

Song: Her - Five Minutes

The sun comes out.

It had risen hours ago with Sander, but also like him had then tucked itself away, making its ascent behind a flurry of dense clouds. Now Sander watches as the last wisps slither aside and reveal the full circle.

It hasn’t been up quite long enough to warm the concrete roof Sander sits on. He’d thought, rightly, to grab his jacket before slipping out around an hour prior, and he’s grateful for the tough leather now. He hadn’t bothered bringing his camera, so his hands are also safely tucked into his pockets. He doesn’t need any more photographs of this view than he already has.

He likes it fine like this. To just sit and see. He doesn’t need to capture it. To have it exist in this moment is enough.

Being so high up likely doesn’t help with the chill, but this is one of Sander’s favourite spots. He’d been pleased, the day one of his professors took their class to one of the older buildings in the academy and climbed the back stairs right to the top. They’d had to capture this scene that day. The sun glinting amidst the clouds, the clouds obscuring the tops of some of the area’s highest buildings, and all the life going on down below. Even now there are a few students milling around there, heading to their studios early or meeting fellow classmates, and interspersed is the honk of morning traffic, the hustle and bustle of a world just beginning to wake.

Sander is apart from all of it. The sun is slanting a ray solely for him; the beings below are tiny specks of colour splashed amidst the gray; the level of the world he’s entered is quiet, aside from the music lilting lightly in his ears.

He had been even more pleased that day to notice none of his fellow classmates had paid much attention to the roof itself, but simply focused on the task at hand. He had wondered how such a perfect place of solace wasn’t already constantly occupied, especially when it could be so easily accessed by a whole school of art students. He hadn’t thought he would be able to make it his own.

But sitting on the lip of the building, legs hung over the edge and arms resting on one of the lower bars stopping him from falling to his death, it does feel like the rooftop belongs to him and him alone. The thought is enough to bring a smile to his face.

He’s the only one seeing this right now, the only one capable of capturing this exact image at this exact time. It doesn’t—like many things do—make him feel as isolated or small as he expects. It reminds him that he has his own vision and his own mind and his own existence, and this must mean he is meant for something. This eagle-eye perspective of this universe in this exact moment is made just for him.

His smile widens as he ponders on how Robbe-like that thought is.

It’s this thought that eventually draws him away. He slides his legs back onto solid concrete and hauls himself to his feet, wincing at the twinge in his ass and brushing stone crumbs off the back of his jeans. Then he slips back through the doorway and down the stairs and begins the trek back to his number-one solace.

His feet cry out in relief as he quietly lets himself into the house and pulls off his Docs. They aren’t the best walking shoes. His feet feel achy and sweaty and he curls and rolls his toes on the wooden floor as he hangs his jacket back on his usual hook. Then he climbs another set of stairs.

He’s relieved to find Robbe exactly how he left him, only now lit in a more golden glow. The boy is curled on his side, facing the doorway Sander has just crept through, curls splayed on the pillow and mouth slightly agape. Fast asleep. Beautiful.

Sander tugs off his jumper and steps out of his jeans, then rounds the bed and crawls back in next to his boyfriend.

The sheets have chilled since he vacated them, unhelpful against his already-cold skin. He shifts towards the middle of the mattress and already feels warmer. The heat emanating from Robbe beckons him closer, and he doesn’t fight it, slipping right into the dip behind Robbe and sliding an arm over his waist, pulling the boy back against his chest. Robbe moves easily, snuggling back into Sander with a sigh, and Sander’s whole body blooms with heat.

As much as he likes his rooftop, there’s no doubt that this is his favourite place to be. ‘This’ being anywhere within Robbe’s orbit.

He doesn’t quite drift off again, but his body goes pleasantly lax and his mind quiets. The longer he listens to Robbe’s soft breaths the more his own heart eases.

Then Robbe starts to shift, and Sander worries he’s woken him. He wriggles in Sander’s arms and Sander loosens his grip, but Robbe simply rolls over in his embrace, turning to face him and immediately curling towards his chest. Sander’s lips turn up in a smile as he draws him in, pressing his nose to Robbe’s soft curls and inhaling slowly. Robbe’s arm curls over his waist, tucking around his back and denting his skin.

He traces patterns over Robbe’s bare shoulder in the few minutes it takes for Robbe to stir again. His grip tightens on Sander for a second as his eyes scrunch, refusing to succumb to the sunlight as he presses closer to Sander’s chest.

Sander presses a kiss to the top of his head as he lets out a tiny, whiny hum, still half-asleep as he stretches his toes against Sander’s ankles and blinks.

Robbe’s doe eyes, even while squinty and crusted with sleep, are the most mesmerizing things he’s ever seen. The corners of them crinkle as Robbe leans back far enough to smile up at him before burying his face back in the crook of Sander’s neck. “Morning,” he mumbles. Then he kisses the closest patch of Sander’s skin.

Sander hugs him tight and returns, “Morning. Sleep well?”

Robbe hums again. “Wha’ time is it?”

“I don’t know. Still before nine, I think.”

“Okay,” Robbe sighs, giving him a squeeze. “We still have some time then.” After a pause, he pulls away from Sander again and looks up at him curiously. “Did you go out? You’re cold.”

This last bit comes out as a whine, and Sander huffs. “Yeah. Just for a walk.”

Robbe hums, smiling as he snuggles back into him again, pushing Sander onto his back so he can sprawl out over his chest and lock their arms together. “Taking photos?”

“No. Didn’t take my camera or anything.”

“But you took your phone, right?”

“Of course, I needed music.”

Robbe huffs, but accepts this response without further questions, leaving a smiling kiss on Sander’s chest. He repeats the motion, then starts up a lazy trail, mapping his way across Sander’s collarbone until Sander tugs his hair. Robbe tilts his head up and lets Sander connect their lips, shifting up on the bed and pressing a hand to Sander’s cheek. Sander’s hand moves to cup the back of Robbe’s head, fingers tangling in his curls and drawing him closer. Robbe’s hand moves up his chest to settle in the crook of his neck and he feels suddenly warm.

He skims a hand down Robbe’s back, tracing the divots and dents of his spine, breathing slow under Robbe’s lazy kisses. He palms at Robbe’s hip, and Robbe quickly takes the hint, lifting his leg over Sander’s and settling atop him before letting out a happy hum.

“Good morning,” he says, amused and cheeky, and Sander bites his lip in retaliation.

Robbe giggles and Sander swallows the sound down, tucks it away in the lower part of his chest to be dug up later. He has made up a whole portfolio of these precious sounds, along with a plethora of the most stunning images and a sad imitation of Robbe’s touch. It’s hard to beat the real thing.

Sander soaks up as much of it as he can now and still begs for more, splaying one hand over shoulder-blades and letting the other slide down, curling over the curve of Robbe’s bottom, drawing him down while tilting his own hips up. Now Robbe’s hum is lower, coming from a more guttural place as he bears down on his own, only requiring that initial permission.

He breaks away to gaze down at Sander, tracing light fingertips over his face as he breathes heavily. Sander smooths his hand back up the line of Robbe’s back to tangle both in his hair. This time he makes his way along Robbe’s cheek, feathering kisses against the stubbly skin until he can brush his lips against the shell of Robbe’s ear and nip at the lobe, free of his earring for the moment. Robbe makes a small, mewling noise and tightens his grip on Sander’s shoulders.

“What time are you leaving?” Sander asks, keeping his voice at a murmur so as not to spoil the mood entirely.

“Jens is meeting me here around ten.”

Sander groans. “You can’t make that ten-thirty?”

Robbe huffs gently. He places his hands on Sander’s chest and pushes himself up to sitting, still astride Sander’s hips. Sander would be more upset with the new lack of contact if it didn’t give him such a nice view; Robbe is all clean-cut lines and lean muscle, with skin glowy and soft under Sander’s fingers. “Jens wanted to be gone yesterday,” Robbe reminds him, not unkindly.

“Why didn’t he just go with Lucas, then?”

“Because he agreed to wait around so I could spend the night with you.” Robbe raises his brows. At Sander’s permanent pout, he huffs again, shaking his head. “You can still come with, you know. We’re going to get a break before the end of school. Couldn’t you do with a break, too?”

Sander groans again and pulls Robbe’s pillow over his face. “I can’t,” he moans. “This project is due on Monday. Unless I stayed up all night tomorrow, I wouldn’t have time to finish it.”

Robbe hums. “You’re usually the one begging me to keep you up all night.”

Sander gives him a sour look, even as his stomach flutters.

“I’m sorry,” Robbe laughs. “I really am. But you know Lucas never asks for anything.”

“And you want to go.”

Robbe hesitates, but he never lies to Sander. He gives a tiny nod and an apologetic smile. “I do. And Jens really needs it.”

Sander considers him for a moment, the lovely curve of his lips and the gentle doe-eyes, and blows out a sigh. “You deserve it,” he says softly. He gives Robbe’s ear a tug and allows himself to smile. “And I suppose I’ll survive.”

It only takes Robbe’s grin to prove he’s done the right thing. Robbe leans down to leave him a kiss, light but lingering, and then turns it into a dozen different pecks instead. “You better. Thank you.”

Sander can only lie there and accept the onslaught of affection, laughing as he settles his hands on Robbe’s thighs and squeezes. He meant what he said—Robbe does deserve it. They hadn’t managed to get away over the break as initially planned, so when Lucas invited them back to Utrecht this weekend they had jumped on the offer. Sander had shared the excitement initially, but then had quickly been reminded of his reality, in which he had stupidly chosen to leave things to the last minute.

“I feel more sorry for you, anyway,” Sander mumbles, emitting a low whistle. “I’ll be alone, but at least I’ll have a quiet night.”

Robbe immediately pushes himself up again, wide-eyed. “No. We’re staying at Lucas’s house, with his mom. Surely they won’t…”

Sander snorts, waving at the space around them and raising a brow. “Where are we right now, Robbe?” At Robbe’s blush, he purses his lips together, making his own eyes big in suggestion. “It is a stress-relief getaway.”

Robbe buries his face in his hands and groans. He rolls off of Sander even as the elder protests, peeking through his hands to stare up at the ceiling. “I’m going to come home traumatised. It’ll be worse than the time I walked in on him and Jana.”

“Not if you don’t walk in on them,” Sander laughs. Seconds later, a pillow smacks him in the face. He makes a muffled protest as he’s attacked again, grabbing at the soft material and wrestling it out of Robbe’s grip to whack him back, hearing Robbe make an ‘oof’ sound before breaking out into giggles.

Eventually, Sander tosses the pillow aside and wrestles Robbe instead, getting him flat on his back and moving over him. He slots a leg between Robbe’s and presses their tangled hands down either side of Robbe’s head, and Robbe’s eyelids droop. Then his fingers flex around Sander’s as his lips part. His neck strains as his head tilts up. Sander ducks down, but forgoes Robbe’s lips to lick a stripe up his neck.

“Sander,” Robbe whines, squirming underneath him in protest even as he lets out a breathy laugh.

“What?”

“We haven’t got long.”

Sander hums, pulling the patch of skin he’d been kissing between his teeth to hear Robbe gasp. “We’d have longer if you were going to stay.”

“Sander,” Robbe repeats, this time in sullen protest.

“Sorry, sorry,” Sander soothes. “We still have enough time though, don’t we?”

“Did you hear my mom when you got back?”

“Nope. I assume she’s still sound asleep.”

Robbe smiles at that, pleased, and Sander finally grants him a kiss, slow and sensual until Robbe makes a needy little sound and squeezes his hands. Sander releases his hands and Robbe immediately tangles them in his hair, tugging at the strands.

“How many minutes do we have to make up for?” Sander asks him.

“Too many to waste time calculating now. We just have enough time to make sure you don’t forget me while I’m gone.” Robbe winks at him, and Sander huffs and goes in for another kiss, but Robbe is already moving. Sander half expects to be rolled over again, but instead Robbe just shimmies down, licking and biting his own way along Sander’s neck before heading lower.

Sander’s arms tremble with the effort of keeping himself up when Robbe’s lips close around his nipple. He draws his pillow over to bury his face in it as Robbe works a mark into his chest, rolling the opposite nipple under his thumb. Once he’s pleased with his work and Sander’s mumbling his name, he makes his way further south.

The following minutes are quite memorable indeed.

~^~

#wtfock #sobbe #rosander #robbe x sander #sander season #tracing time #there is already ✨foreshadowing✨ here #but I’ll be very surprised if anyone figures out what it is hahaha

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joshstambourine · 3 years

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Greta Van Fleet and Their Kid’s First Day of School

Y’all seemed to love my GVF as Dad’s head canon so I thought I’d continue on the same line with something else cute~ I’ve had this idea since I mentioned it in a fic I recently wrote (A Girl Named Ivy) so I thought I might as well throw a head canon together for it as well... SO I STOP THINKING ABOUT IT LMAO.

Taglist: @anditsmywholeheart @babydxll

Josh

He strikes me one of those dads who is actually really excited for his kid to start school. Not that he doesn't want them around, or that he doesn't realize its the mark of the beginning of the end... but because he knows this is a part of growing up.

Josh can tell while they are out shopping for new school clothes that his kid is excited. They are beginning to feel grown up, even if its just in a small way --- and Josh is proud of them for that.

I just can't imagine him being the kind of parent that struggles with letting them go, instead I see him being the kind of parent that just wants to nurture their growth in everyway.

"What about this shirt for your first day? You know what we should get you?? A set of wheelies!"

"Josh they don't allow those in schools anymore..."

*Whispers* "We'll get you some wheelies, just don't tell mom."

He'd make sure he goes through the checklist the school had sent out multiple times, trying to make sure they have everything they could possibly need.

When the big day finally comes, he would be talking with his little one all morning making sure they know they are going to have a great time and make lots of friends.

He would want to help make their lunch but instead just spends all his time drawing a picture of a rabbit with a cowboy hat riding on a goats back to put in instead.

Josh wouldn't be able to stop himself from looking in the rearview every few minutes to look over the little ones face. Trying to make sure they didn't look nervous at any point. If they do he'd find a way to reassure them.

"You remember that nice lady that gave you that cool cat sticker a few weeks ago? She's going to be there all day today! She's actually your teacher, isn't that cool?" Josh would just want to do everything in his power to keep them feeling relaxed.

"You give 'em hell today, okay?" Josh would say when they stood outside of the classroom, watching the little one nod. "Before you know it I'll be here to pick you up."

"You promise?"

"Of course I promise... I need someone to go get ice cream with!" He would say as he'd move to give them a tight hug.

"I love you."

"I love you too Dad."

As soon as the classroom door shuts, Josh won't be able to stop smiling the rest of the walk back to the car. He would be just so proud that he raised such a fearless kid.

The first thing Josh would ask when he picks them up at the end of the day,

"So? Did you learn how to move things with your mind yet?"

"No but did you know squares have four sides...?!"

Jake

Oh god.

Jake is going to be having such a tough time.

He wants to be a big strong man about this. "It's so silly... why would I be sad about them going to school?! That's ridiculous."

He would pretend like he didn't care.

Anytime his little one asks about what school is going to be like, he gives very quick pointed answers so he doesn't have to think about them being grown up enough to go.

"Is it too late to home school them...?"

"Yes Jake it's too late to home school them."

Jake just wants to hold hands the whole time they are school shopping. He doesn’t want to let them go.

"Jake, you have to let them go so they can pick out what they want."

"They can bring me where ever they want to be. I can help them reach what they need.”

The moment his kid puts their backpack on their shoulders, even just to test it out, he’s going to need to take a moment. When did his baby get so grown up?!

He thought that was bad but then the school assessment kills him.

Jake wants to be the one to make their lunch for their first day, its a special day, this little one deserves something special. He'd hide candies and other treats at the bottom so Mom won't see.

There is no way Jake isn’t driving his kid on their first day of school. He’s going to talk with them all the way to class with their hand clasped in his.

I think despite how well he covers it over, his kid can probably tell that he’s having a hard time letting them go.

“Dad?”

“Yeah...?”

“I’ll be okay.”

Hearing them say that would make him smile, trying so hard not to cry. Jake would lean down and immediately give them a huge hug. “I know.” He’d tell them.

“I’m just going to miss you lots.”

“I’ll miss you too.” They’d say, “But. Mom says that I’ll have time to draw pictures probably. Would you like a picture Dad?”

“I’d love a picture.”

As soon as Jake gets back to the car he’s a sobbing mess. He’s so proud but its so hard to see your baby grow up.

Sam

Sort of like Josh I think that Sam is excited for his little one to start school. He has so much confidence in his kids abilities.

Sam would just assume that whatever task is sent his little ones way will be accomplished with all of their effort.

He feels like the kind of parent to hype up school any chance he gets for his kid. He wouldn’t want his kid to be nervous, so he’d say just about anything to keep them from being scared.

When Sam brings his kid in for the assessment he is just going to be absolutely beaming with joy.

He’s just such a proud dad. Getting to see his kid answer questions and have so much fun is going to have him over the moon.

“Buddy you did so good with those shapes! When did you learn those??”

Sam would be on the ball for school shopping. Everything that’s on the school given list and then some.

“Sam... they don’t need a dictionary --- they can’t even read yet.”

“Just incase! You never know!”

*Insert Sam looking for dirty words and snickering to himself*

He’d also want to practice so much with his kid before the big day comes. Going over their numbers and ABC’s so they feel nice and prepared.

When the big day does come around he is immediately going to have his camera out, ready to take some nice first day at school pictures. Whether they are waiting for the bus or he’s driving them to the school.

There are going to be like a million pictures.

So many.

“You’ve got your crayons?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?! I just want to make sure. Oh and you’ve got your lunch box?? Mom made you such a good lunch.”

“Yup! I’ve got everything!”

“Excellent work~” He’d hum, “You're going to have an awesome first day!”

Danny

Danny I could imagine feeling a little nervous for his little one to start school

He would never tell his kid this of course; I feel like he would understand how well attuned kids can be to feelings, especially nervous feelings.

So he tries to bury his worried feelings.

They’d come out a little every time his baby shows any concerns about school. But he will stuff them down and try to be as reassuring as he can.

“You’re going to make so many friends, buddy! You aren’t even going to notice Mom and Dad aren’t there, y’know? They also have lots of cool toys.”

Danny seems like the kind of Dad that would want them to feel confident. So if that meant lots of new clothes, or cool school supplies. He’d get it for them. Above everything he just doesn’t want them at any point to have a hard time in this process.

In all honesty though he’s the one having the hard time.

His kid is probably hella excited.

Danny sort of strikes me as a parent who would pack a really nice lunch for his kid. Like. This kid isn’t just going to have a ham sandwich like the rest of the loser kids in their class.

#AestheticLunch

The scene I sort of keep running in my head is with Danny standing at the end of the driveway holding his kids hand, they're both just leaning out waiting for the school bus to come around the corner.

“Hey dad?”

“Yeah?”

“...I’m sorta scared.”

“Buddy, it’s okay to be scared. This is a new thing for you. It’s totally okay to be worried about it.”

“I know...”

“Is there something that’s scaring you a lot though?”

The kid would nod, “...I’m going to miss you.”

Danny’s heart would just melt, and he’d pull them up into his arms for a huge hug. “I’m going to miss you lots too! But. As soon as you get home we can play as much as you want, okay?”

Watching his kid get onto the bus is going to be such a scary thing, but he knows it’ll all work out.

I feel like he would plan something fun for afterwards. Whether it be like going to get ice cream, or taking them out to a movie. Just something to celebrate!

Well that’s all of those! Sorry they’re a little bit more briskly written I sort of wanted to get those out of my head so I can focus on the next part of What Friends Do. As always if you guys want an actual full fic written for one of these, let me know~

Fun note! My first day of school was proceeded by going to an amusement park on the Friday. Going to a friends house and dislocating my elbow on the Saturday. Having major surgery on the Sunday. And then sobbing my whole first day, the Tuesday.

#Greta Van Fleet #josh gvf #jake gvf #sam gvf #danny gvf #gvf fanfiction #greta van fic #greta van fleet roleplay #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet hc #gvf hc #gvf imagine

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official-weasley · 3 years

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Meant to Be (Charlie Weasley x OC)

What happens when Bill brings home a girl and Charlie is completely awestruck by her?

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, curse words, angst

Chapter 9

Charlie

On the Saturday after the week Rhylee found out about the trial, I woke up early. I looked through my window and saw a cloudless sky. It was the perfect opportunity to hike up to my favorite spot and watch the sunrise. I have been so busy all week that I simply didn’t find the time to do it and I missed it so much.

I got dressed and made myself some coffee. I stretched and went outside. I took a long whiff of fresh air. It does wonders to the lungs. I loved that it was getting warmer. The Summer breeze was just around the corner. I started walking toward the hill.

I loved living here because it wasn’t as hot in the Summer as in most places. After all, we were surrounded by mountains but at the same time, we didn’t get that much rain and it was rarely windy because we were in the valley, hidden from the rest of the world.

Surrounded by nature, magic, and dragons. What a perfect life.

I felt so energized this morning. I don’t know why, but I was in a better mood than I was most days this past week. I slept well and I was excited to watch the sunrise. I wish Aami was still just a baby, I would love to bring him along.

I did it once. Nobody knows about it because Peter would probably kill me but since Aami can’t fly, I couldn’t resist. He walked around, his eyes on me as I explained why I liked to sit on a rock and stare at the sun. It was one of my fondest memories of him.

I came to the top and put my hands on my knees, panting. A week without hiking or going for a run and I was already out of shape.

Come on, Charlie!

I looked up, to see how the sun was progressing and wanted to take a step closer to the place where I usually sit when I stopped.

I stood frozen on the spot as if someone stupefied me. It was Rhylee. She was sitting on the same boulder, waiting for the sunrise as I usually was. Why was she here?

Wasn’t it enough that I was spending so much time with her already? I know I brought it on myself when I offered to help her with the case but I couldn’t say no to her. I couldn’t gaze into those beautiful eyes of hers and tell her that I won’t help her.

But I was not okay with this. She can’t take this away from me too. This was my happy place. The place where I came to empty my head and forget about my worries. The fact that I had feelings for her was one of my biggest concerns these days and her being here meant I can’t let go of that.

There is no way she saw me. If I turn around and sneak away she will never know I was here and I can go find a new spot from where to watch the sunrise from.

Yes, that’s what I’ll do! I turned around and started walking back down the hill.

“Charlie? Is that you?”

Fuck. How did she hear me?

I slowly turned back around, cursing my heart for not obeying me to just beat normally, and waved at her.

“Hi.”

Could I be more awkward? Charlie, you’re such a git!

“Is this the place you were describing when you told me you go sunrise watching?” She said gently. I can’t believe she remembered that I told her that. I just nodded. “Want to join me?”

Not really, Rhylee.

I would rather roll myself back down to the village than sit next to you and watch the bloody sunrise.

Did I do that?

No.

Her smile won. It always does.

I can’t resist her lips curving into a hopeful expression, indicating that she would love to spend time with me. I’m too weak and I didn’t care. I hated myself for it but I couldn’t help it. Most days it felt like an invisible string was drawing me toward her and I couldn’t get away.

I wanted to be around her all the time. I wanted to talk to her and make her laugh. I wanted to hug her and touch the soft skin of her cheeks. I wanted to kiss her forehead and hold her hand.

I wanted to be with her.

“Charlie?” I blinked at her when I heard her say my name. “Join me.”

She said, more determined this time, and patted the spot on the rock next to her. I moved as fast as my legs allowed me, which wasn’t very fast at all. They felt like jelly. I wanted to melt, that’s how beautiful she was.

I awkwardly sat down next to her, looking straight at the sunrise. I know she was scanning me with her eyes, waiting for me to look at her but I couldn’t. Every time I did, I started overthinking. She always looked at me differently than the rest of our friends.

I always felt as if she was trying to read me, to know what I was thinking. I constantly felt like she wanted to talk about everything else with me but our job or dragons but she always stopped herself as if she was afraid she would say something that she isn’t supposed to.

I know I was an idiot but I didn’t do anything about it. I felt the same way for Merlin’s sake! But I couldn’t talk to her. I can’t. She’s my co-worker and it’s been more than 2 years since we slept together.

It’s also been two years since I saw Bill.

Just thinking about it made me sick. I despised myself for the fact that I didn’t visit him. That I couldn’t talk to him. That I couldn’t tell him. I don’t even want to know what my family thinks or if he said anything to them about me.

I went home for Easter last year just because I knew he wouldn’t be there. How horrible does that make me? I think I reached rock bottom a long time ago and I was terrified that I wouldn’t be able to come back up.

I think about taking a few days off and visiting him every single day.

Every. Single. Day.

And yet I never bring myself to do it. After 2 years, what would I even say to him? He was the nicest and the most forgiving person I know but he wouldn’t forgive me and I wouldn’t blame him.

Why would he?

First, I sleep with the girl he likes, and then I disappear off the face of the Earth for 2 years. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs that’s how much it hurt. I basically tore my family apart.

My family. People who meant more than anything to me in this world.

“You’re quiet today.” Rhylee’s gentle voice and nudge to my shoulder brought me back to reality.

“Huh?” I turned to her. “Yeah. Sorry. A lot on my mind.” I smiled weakly, feeling the heat on my cheeks.

“Anything you want to share?” She asked, concerned.

“No.” I said quickly. Too quickly.

That wasn’t the word I wanted to use. I wanted to say yes. I wanted to tell her how I feel about her. I wanted her to know that I still feel guilty about what I did to Bill. I wanted to tell her that I wish we would’ve met under different circumstances. How much I wish I was the one who met her first. How beautiful she was and how she takes my breath away no matter what she wears or what she does. I wanted to tell her all of that and so much more but instead…

“I usually come here to clear my head, that’s all.” That’s what I said instead.

Because I’m an idiot.

Because of all the guilt that I can’t let go of.

Because I don’t deserve her.

Because I am absolutely and without a single doubt in love with her.

“You want me to leave?” She started to get up.

“No.” I grabbed her wrist to make her stay. “I’m just not used to anyone else being up here.” The first truth that came out of my mouth today.

“I can’t believe nobody is.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I felt like exploring this morning and I stumbled upon this place just as the sun started to rise. It took my breath away.”

Like you take mine?

“It’s just so calming. Makes you forget about all your troubles, you know.” She glanced at me but quickly looked away.

She took a deep breath and I could feel her moving a bit away from me.

“Thank you for putting so much of your time to help me, Charlie.” She said with a husky voice after I didn’t say anything back. “I wouldn’t be able to do it without you. You give me so much hope.”

Don’t say that, please.

“I…”

I turned my head to her.

There it was. That look in her eyes. The look that told me that she had so many things to say but no words to express herself. She had moments like this every now and then when we were alone. As if she remembered something and wanted to talk about it but couldn’t for some reason. As if something stopped her. As if she was afraid of what I might say back.

“I just wish life was easier, you know.” She sighed and leaned on my shoulder.

I tried hard not to react to her touch. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of our bodies touching. It was the most I will ever get the chance to experience.

I hummed in response. I didn’t know what she meant by that. I didn’t know what she was referring to. To be honest I don’t think I wanted to know. I wasn’t ready. I don’t think I’ll ever be.

“I asked around and there is a big library in the village over that mountain.” I pointed my finger to our left.

I could feel her head moving to see where I was pointing but she didn’t pull away from me. It felt as if she wanted to be even closer.

“I was thinking of going there on Monday during lunch. Perhaps find some books that could help our case. Your case.” I quickly corrected myself.

“Thank you for being such an amazing friend, Charlie.” I felt something shatter inside me when she called me her friend but at the same time, I felt relief.

I can finally stop questioning if there is something between us and stop overthinking all of her gestures and looks. I can relax around her and just be myself because I know she sees me as a friend. No more pressure. No more feeling guilty. Who knew I would love to be in the friendzone. Now that she said it, she can lean on my shoulder and hug me as much as she wants to.

I have been stifling my feelings for 2 years. I was used to it by now and this was my sign that I was doing the right thing. At least someone didn’t hate me.

“No problem and right back at you.”

Seriously, Charlie? This is the best you can come up with?

We sat in silence and admired the sunrise until we had to go to work. We walked down the hill in silence too. If I think about it, I don’t think we said a single word to each other the whole day.

I joined the boys in the tavern after work and she wasn’t there. I had this strange feeling that it had something to do with this morning but I have to stop thinking about it. I have to change some things about myself. I was too young to go through so much bullshit and I only got myself to blame for it. I have to stop beating my head over her. I have to stop bringing myself down. I have to stop feeling so guilty and own up to my mistakes.

I have to get my shit together and talk to Bill. I need my brother back. I need my best friend back. I have been so selfish, feeling sorry for myself that I didn’t even think how he must feel about all of this. Who goes from spending Christmas together to not seeing his brother for 2 years?

“Charlie, you alright, mate?” I turned my head to John, sitting next to me.

“Yeah. A bit tired.” I yawned. “Been busy with Rhylee’s trial case.” I lied.

The last time I talked about my feelings to them was that night when Rhylee started working here and if I have anything to do with it, it will never happen again.

“You two have been spending a lot of time together.” Theo winked at me, moving his glass from his right to his left hand.

“As I said, we have been working on the case together.” I acted unphased by his mockery.

“Come on, Charlie! We’re not blind.” Andrew joined in.

Great. I love when they corner me like this.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I sighed and gulped down my whiskey.

I didn’t drink enough to have a conversation of this sort and I will do anything to stop it.

“Right.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Let’s all pretend like Charlie does that nothing is going on between him and Rhylee.”

“You mean how they look at each other when they think the other person isn’t looking?” Evan smirked.

“Or the fact that they keep blushing every time they see each other?” Added John.

“Or how they just can’t stop their smiles from spreading across their faces when their eyes meet.” Theo made a kissy face.

“Are you done?” I poured myself another drink.

“Oh, we can go on all night, that’s how much is going on between you two.”

Peter, you might be my boss but I will strangle you. Next on the list was my heart which was now beating so fast that I started shaking.

“As I said…are you done?” I said without a single ounce of interest in my voice.

“Why do you keep denying it?” John cried.

“I didn’t say anything.” If they can mess with me I can mess with them back.

“You really like to torture yourself, don’t you?” Evan frowned at me.

“Mhm.” I said with a clenched jaw.

I was a rat’s hair away from standing up and leaving.

“Charlie, this is not some silly crush anymore. We know you have feelings for her.” Peter never sounded so serious before.

“We know you like her, Charlie. A lot.” John put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s all over your face, mate.”

“Like her.” I scoffed.

“You’re seriously going to deny it?” Andrew rolled his eyes. “You’re going to say you don’t like her?”

“Like her?” I raised my voice. “I don’t like her, Andrew! I…” Damn, they made me mad sometimes! Why do they have to be such noisy gits and why do I feel like talking about Rhylee to them? “I’m in love with her.” I said under my breath but I know they could hear me.

“Then what are you doing here sitting with us and not telling her that?” John said gently after a long pause.

I think they were shocked that I admitted it.

I looked up at them. They were patiently waiting for my response. They weren’t serious, were they?

“I can’t just knock on her door and tell her how I feel.” I shook my head and chugged down my whiskey.

“Yes, Charlie. You can!” They said together.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I poured myself another glass of whiskey. I drank it as fast as I could, their eyes following my every move.

“Fuck it.” I stood up and they started clapping.

I was already miserable and at this point had nothing to lose. Might as well try right?

I walked over to her hut as fast as I could before I would change my mind. I stopped on her front porch and I wanted to bang my head against the wall.

Can I do this?

Am I really doing this?

Am I actually that insane?

I knocked on the door and turned on my heel. I wanted to run. I can’t do this. My chest was rising and falling fast from my heavy breathing and my heart is going to jump out of it any second now. This was taking too long. She’s obviously not home. I’m leaving.

I put my hands in my pockets, ready to head home when…

“Charlie?”

#harry potter fanfiction #charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #the weasleys #weasley family #hp imagine #charlie weasley x oc #charlie weasley imagine #the burrow #harry potter imagine #weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x mc #bill weasley #harry potter #wizarding world

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fific7 · 4 years

Text

That Swept-Back Hair

Billy Russo x Reader

@omgrachwrites 500 Follower Celebration

AU Prompt: Friends with Benefits

Summary: How will Billy Russo react when his FWB finds another lover? Bearing in mind that he’s a complete hypocrite.

Warnings: Swearing, jealousy, fluff with mentions of sex.

A/N: Loosely based on S1 Billy, it’s non-canon & set in my imaginary Punisher universe.

(My GIF)

»»———————————————　⚜　———————-————————-««

Your phone was jumping like a jack-in-the-box on your bedside table, the blue light of the screen illuminating the wall behind it every few seconds.

You rolled over with a groan, taking a moment before picking it up and looking at it. Of course it was Billy Russo, who else would it be at 1 AM on a Saturday morning?

The guy next to you in the bed also rolled over, covering his mouth as he yawned, eyes half-open.

“Everything OK, Y/N?” he asked.

“Yeah, Raf, just a needy friend.... gonna call them back, so do you mind staying hush-hush for the next few minutes?”

He yawned massively again, speaking through it, “Ahhhhrrrrr...yeah... no problem...”

You hit the ‘Favourites’ star next to Billy’s name in your contacts, hearing it start ringing.

It went to voicemail so you hung up, slid the phone onto the table and threw your head back down onto your pillow. Fucking Russo. Blows up your phone with missed calls & “Pick up!!” texts then doesn’t answer when you call back.

It rang two seconds later, just as Raf had turned towards you, opening his mouth to no doubt ask you about your ‘needy friend’. You rolled your eyes and grabbed it, but the screen went dark just as you did so.

You hit redial, it rang out, went to voicemail. “Fuck!” you ground out between your teeth.

Your head had touched your pillow again for about 5 minutes, when there was a staccato series of knocks on your apartment door.

You shot up in bed, quivering - ah hell, it couldn’t be, could it? Really?

Raf had dozed back off in the meantime & didn’t even stir when the knocks rang out sharply in the quiet apartment. Not much of a guard dog, you thought, quickly throwing on your discarded PJs.

You padded barefoot over to the front door, confirming via the peephole that Billy Russo was indeed outside in the hallway, leaning on your doorframe so he could place one eye right to it. You spotted an eyebrow wiggle as you made eye contact. Oh holy hell!

You straightened your shoulders, took the chain off and unlocked the door, swinging it open.

“Billy!” you said quietly, with a small smile, “What brings you here?” You hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him for about three weeks. Not that that was anything new.

He moved gracefully past you like the panther he was, even though you’d been trying to subtly block him from coming in. He was dressed in one of his sharp suits, so you guessed he’d been at one of the never-ending stream of events he attended.

Your mouth drew into a line. Whoever he’d gone there with must have bucked the trend and bailed on him. Otherwise he wouldn’t have turned up at your place when, in his mind, the night was still young.

He turned towards you, placing both hands on your hips as he did so, pulling you up against his muscled chest.

“Now, Y/N, why do you think I’m here, holding my best girl in my arms?” the New York accented voice purred in your ear.

He leant in and kissed you hungrily, deepening the kiss immediately to a passionate one.

You pulled away, escaping his grasp. His eyes widened in surprise, a small frown making its way onto his brow. A few locks of his dark hair had fallen forward onto his brow and he swept them back up with his fingers, a reflexive gesture for him.

“I tried to call you back,” you mumbled, “I’ve... uh... got a friend staying with me at the moment.”

He shot his trademark smirk at you. “Hey, that’s OK. We can be quiet for once, yeah?” Grinning now.

In true romcom fashion, Raf picked that moment to come wandering into the lounge, clad only in his boxers, both hands ruffling through his short hair.

Billy’s mouth dropped open. He made a quick recovery, though. Gestured with a thumb.

“So... this your ‘friend’?”

He looked Raf up and down. He was a 6 feet 3 firefighter with the FDNY, and to put it mildly, he was ripped.

He topped Billy by a couple of inches, and by a few pounds. Billy scowled at him.

Raf eyed up Billy too, turning to you and asking, “This your ‘needy friend’ you were talkin’ ‘bout, Y/N?”

Oh crap.

Billy’s scowl turned to a furious glare, aimed right at you. “Needy?!! Ah, fuck this, Y/N! I think we all know who’s needy around here.”

Your mouth rounded into an offended O, but before you could reply, Billy was out the door and it slammed loudly behind him.

Great - now all your neighbours were gonna be mad at you too.

»»———————————————-　⚜　-———-———————————-««

You had then spent an uncomfortable half hour over a coffee with Raf, explaining the dynamics of your non-relationship with Billy.

“Now,” he’d said, brow furrowed, “let me get this straight. He’s part of your friend group, you see him every so often at a bar or at one of their places - but never his. He sees tons of other women but turns up here for booty calls whenever his busy schedule allows?”

He shook his head. “He’s using you, Y/N. What a selfish prick.”

You bristled, “Look, we go back quite a ways. Since he was in the Marines. I knew Frank first as we were neighbours when we were kids, and I eventually met Billy through him. He’s Frankie’s best friend, they’re Marine brothers.”

“And how long have you been ‘friends with benefits’?”

You muttered your response. “Sorry, what was that you said?” he asked.

“Three years,” you repeated reluctantly.

“Damn.” he said. “And what am I, exactly? Filler for whenever fuckboy isn’t calling?”

“No! Raf, you’re a really nice guy, and I love spending time with you.”

He stood up, heading to the bedroom. “Look, I’m gonna go. I need a few days to try and get my head round your fucked-up relationship with the suit-wearing Marine.”

He’d left shortly afterwards, saying he’d call. You weren’t sure that he would.

You met up with Karen for lunch later that day. You’d been co-workers first off, then had become good friends. She was currently dating Frank, your childhood friend.

You were so glad that he was back out socialising, in a small way, after losing his wife and kids in a brutal gang clash just over a year before. They and several others had been what the papers described, rather callously, as “collateral damage” while minding their own business in the public park the gun fight took place in.

Frank had understandably closed himself off to a large extent as he grieved and after a decent interval, you’d tried your best to draw him back out in a gentle way. You’d decided to indulge in a bit of Matchmaking Lite, and had invited Karen along to a night out with the rest of your friends. You knew Frank would be there and as you’d hoped, they hit it off right away.

You spilled what had happened the night before to her, grateful for a shoulder to cry on. She looked and sounded sympathetic, but you knew she wasn’t a big fan of your arrangement with Billy. She again voiced her astonishment that you still had it going on with him.

“Karen, without making you vomit by sharing too many details, Billy is just the absolute best in bed. He’s got the stamina of an ox. Several oxes, in fact.” You just knew your eyes had a faraway look in them.

Her mouth pursed in a ‘moux’ of distaste. “But still, Y/N, he’s just so damn selfish about it! It’s all on his terms.”

“You know he’s got commitment issues.”

She choked on her espresso martini. “Ya don’t say!!”

“It’s complicated.”

“Look, honey, I’m gonna be straight with you. It is anything but complicated. He spends 90% of his time at Anvil, 9.9% with other gals, and guess who gets the remaining measly 0.1%, the crumbs from his table?” She pointed her finger straight at you. “Coconut for the lady over there!”

You sat in silence for several minutes, turning over in your mind what Raf, and now Karen, had said to you. Eventually you nodded slowly. “You know what, Kar, you’re totally right. I just let the great sex blind me to all the rest of his fucking bullshit.”

Time to cut Billy loose.

Not that you ever had him tied down in the first place. If you were being brutally honest.

And you weren’t sure whether he’d even bother showing up at your place ever again.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The next day being Sunday meant that some serious ‘Me Time’ was in order.

Sitting on the sofa, you stared off into space, thinking about the two men in your life. You huffed to yourself; you hadn’t heard from either of them so far, and that was probably for the best. You could do without being stuck in the middle of some kind of testosterone-fuelled conflict between the two of them.

Then you laughed out loud at yourself. Who were you kidding? You’d probably never see either of them again! You stood up, stretching out your shoulder and neck muscles. Time for a bit of self-pampering.

You had a long relaxing bath, gave yourself a leisurely mani-pedi, ordered in some pizza, and began to go through some layouts for work the next day.

You were a digital content editor at the newspaper both you & Karen worked for. It was okay as jobs went, but it didn’t set your world on fire. However, what did excite you was that the newspaper’s parent publishing house was about to launch a travel magazine, and you’d applied for a transfer.

What really made butterflies pop up into your stomach, though, was the fact that the magazine’s content editors would also be contributing instead of just collating. You’d already had an interview with the Editor in Chief, and should be hearing back within the next few days.

If someone else got that position you’d applied for, you’d just have to shove them out of your third floor office window at the very first opportunity.

While you were thinking of potentially becoming a murderer, there was a familiar pattern of raps at your door. Your heart sank straight through your boots.

You knew it was Billy before you opened the door. It sounded ridiculous but he had a certain way of knocking. Peremptory, demanding, with military precision.

He stood outside your door, tensed up and rigid, with a carefully blank look on his face.

“You alone?” he barked, by way of greeting.

You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him. “Why, hello Billy. How are you? I’m fine, Y/N, how are you? Yeah, I’m great.”

He glared right back. “I asked if you were alone.”

“That’s highly unlikely, Billy, seeing as how I’m so needy!”

He huffed and marched inside straight to the sofa, sitting down and leaning his arms on his spread-apart thighs. He clasped his hands together, letting them dangle loosely between his knees.

“You said I was needy first.” Sulky face.

“Hey, are we back in school or something?”

He looked up at you, dark eyes staring into yours intensely. “Why d’you get with another guy, Y/N?”

Straight to the point, then. OK, you were going to return the favour.

“What, I’m not allowed to have a life? D’you think I’m going to just sit around, waiting to gratefully receive 5 minutes of your attention every few weeks? Like some kind of fucktoy, to be picked up and dropped at will? Seriously?”

He clenched his fingers until the joints went white. “I thought you were happy with the way things are between us!!?... our... our arrangement. You’re important to me. And you know I care about you!” Not meeting your eyes at this last comment.

“Huh!!!” You leant against your kitchen island, you weren’t going to get into Billy’s orbit. Too risky.

“So important that you spend all your time at work, while bedding half of Manhattan? Leaving me with the crumbs from your table, as someone put it recently.”

He shot up from the sofa, fury in his eyes. “Who fuckin’ said that?!”

You shrugged, “It’s not important. What is important is that our arrangement, as you call it, is over. Since you put it in such business-like terms, think of it as a contract which has been terminated.”

Billy stalked across the room until he was an inch away from you, eyes boring into yours. “No.”

You laughed in disbelief, eyebrows arching. “You think that just cos you say ‘No’ it’s not gonna happen? Because no-one ever says no to Billy Russo, is that it?”

He grabbed you, lips finding yours in a ferocious kiss. One hand crept up the nape of your neck, his fingers running through your hair, while the other hand pulled your hips to his. He had an impressive erection. You gasped as you felt the pressure of it against you, but pushed him away, escaping to the other side of the kitchen island.

“Just go, Billy. Please.”

He stared at you, wide-eyed, those dark pools of his looking suspiciously glossy. Was he...? No way.

Billy turned on his heel and slammed out of your apartment. Again.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy knocked his beer bottle off the table with his elbow, as he leant forward to drunkenly wave a finger in his friend’s face. Luckily, it fell onto the grassy verge below, rather than the decked patio they were sitting on in Frank’s back garden.

Frank grabbed his finger. “Russo!!! Chill out, man.”

“She tol’ me... t’go, Frankie, I was kissin’ her an’ she jus’ said Go!” slurred Billy. Frank squeezed his eyes shut at the whiny tone then looked back at him.

“Bill! We all warned you she wouldn’t put up with your bullshit forever. You should’ve known this was comin’ bud.”

“Bu’ I... I... love her,” he blurted, then stared at Frank, eyes wide, part horrified, part terrified.

“Got a strange way of showin’ it, Bill. Picking other women over her, until you decide it’s time to hook up. Surprised she’s stood for it so long!”

Billy swayed slightly in his garden chair, just staring back at him, nodding repetitively like a bobble head every so often.

“I gotta get her back, Frankie.”

“Whooo,” Frank huffed out a big breath, “well, ya always did like to choose the impossible missions, Russo.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were beginning to understand what having a stalker was like.

When you left work the following day, the first person you spotted on the sidewalk outside your office building was Billy Russo.

You hesitated, shocked, then nodded and said quietly, “Hi Billy,” before continuing your short walk to the subway.

He fell into step alongside you. “M’gonna show you just how much I care about you,” you heard, then he was gone. Just gone, into the crowd of commuters around you.

That was just the beginning. Every morning, one single rose of the palest pearly pink would be delivered to your office, laying in a swirl of black chiffon within a silver gift box.

Texts would drop into your phone at unexpected hours. “Please forgive me. Let me back into your life. I love you, Y/N.”

The first time you saw those words, you nearly dropped your phone. What the....?

Gourmet meals and bottles of rosé prosecco would be delivered to your door, precisely 30 minutes after you’d get home. Was he watching you or something? A little shiver ran up your spine. He was still a sniper, after all.

You would catch glimpses of Billy when you left the office, and outside your apartment. Without a shadow of a doubt, he meant you to see him, he would never be so visible on a real surveillance job. But he didn’t ever approach you.

Then you got your dream job. You, Karen and a bunch of your colleagues went to your regular bar after work for a quick celebration. There was a toast proposed to your new job at one point, and one of your male colleagues grabbed you in a friendly bear hug after they’d all shouted “Cheers!”

You were looking past his arm as he hugged you, and found yourself staring into Billy Russo’s dark eyes. Casually dressed, he was leaning on a high table near the door, a beer in front of him.

Billy lazily pushed back from his table, strode over to you, swiped you out of the guy’s arms, wrapped his own arms round you and planted a kiss on your temple, with a nonchalant, “Hi, sweetheart.”

Karen, who had heard all about your last encounter with Billy, looked thunderstruck. You’d be getting interrogated later, that was for sure.

He, meanwhile, landed another kiss right next to your lips and said, “See you later at home,” giving you a quick squeeze before walking off.

Your female colleagues meanwhile were swooning over Billy, one of them commenting that she wasn’t surprised you’d kept so damn quiet about your hot boyfriend. You gave Karen a meaningful look and just smiled back at them all, neither confirming nor denying anything.

However the feeling of Billy’s body against yours, the delicious smell of him, his lips on your skin, had set your heart racing at a dangerous speed. You really did try to push those thoughts aside.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Flopping down onto your sofa when you got home, you laid your head back on it and thought about that evening. As expected, Karen had questioned you ruthlessly as you left the bar together, like the perceptive investigative reporter she was.

Talking as you walked to the subway, you’d given her every detail of all the deliveries, glimpses of him and texts you’d received in the last few days. Karen had stopped walking, looking at you in surprise. “Y/N, why didn’t you tell me about all of this before now? Hell, Frank told me he had some crazy plan to win you back, but I never really thought...” her voice trailed off.

“Is it working?” she asked next. “Mmmm, yes and no, to be honest,” you said. “Don’t let it!” she said firmly, “This is what he should have been doing all along, instead of treating you like a total afterthought.”

You nodded, “Can’t argue with ya on that,” you agreed. “Is he going to turn up at your place, d’you think?” she asked. “Wouldn’t be surprised,” you laughed, “I think that was Billy giving me a heads-up.”

So as you’d been 90% expecting, the familiar knock at the door came about 15 minutes after you’d got back. You got up and after checking the peephole, sighed and opened it. “Hi, Billy.”

This was like déjà vu. Billy brushed past you and sat himself down on the sofa, in the same pose as the last time. Head down, hair falling forward and hiding his eyes from you. This time, you bit the bullet and sat at the opposite end, leaning against the armrest so you were facing him.

“Well, Billy.... leaving aside the stalkerish overtones, I guess I should thank you for the roses, gourmet meals and prosecco.”

He swung his head towards you, eyes wide. “They were just to get your attention. Frankie told me it’s what I shoulda been doin’ anyway, all along.”

You nodded, “Yeah, he’s not wrong.”

Billy heaved out a big sigh, head dropping. “I know I’ve been a complete shit to you, Y/N. Took you for granted.” He met your eyes again, “Truth is, I was fallin’ in love with you, and I really didn’t know how to handle it. I thought it was... just sex to you, so I... I was a coward and tried to ignore it, and acted like I didn’t give a shit about you. I just couldn’t have you kick me to the curb if I told you how I felt.”

You were genuinely shocked - Billy had never talked about his feelings before. You’d accepted this in the past, telling yourself it was due to his upbringing in the system.

“So you meant what you said in your daily texts, then?”

He nodded, still looking straight at you, “Yeah...I meant it, I do love you, Y/N.” Then he quickly looked down again.

Before you could stop yourself, you’d leant along the sofa and your fingers were pushing that silky hair off his forehead. He looked up at you, taking hold of your wrist and kissing your pulse point softly. You stood up, saying “C’mere, you,” and took hold of his hand, pulling him up along with you.

He put his arms round you, burying his face into your hair and just holding you. “I’ve missed you,” he mumbled. You laughed, “What?! Even though you hadn’t seen me for weeks before the night you landed on my doorstep?!”

“I know, I know, you don’t need to remind me I’ve been a complete prick. I’ll be honest, I think it took me seein’ you with that guy, and him actin’ like you were his, to give me that kick up the ass I needed.” The dark eyes looked down at you, and he sniffed, “He still around?” You shook your head.

“Nah. I think he thought I was completely insane for still being with you.”

Billy laughed, “Maybe he’s right....” he looked at you, serious again. “You willin’ to give me another chance, Y/N? I promise you I’ll do it right this time. The whole dating thing, asking you to be my girlfriend after three dates, all that stuff... everything.”

“Everything? Like, what if I say no sex to start with? And no running off to other women to scratch that itch? You’ll swear to all that? Really?!”

“I swear to you, on my Ka-Bar.”

“Wow,” you said, knowing that the knife was never out of Billy’s possession. It was an integral part of him. Maybe he was serious after all.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

A small kiss on your cheek woke you the next morning. Those eyes, those dark liquid pools, stared into yours, while a thumb ran over your cheek. “Mornin’, sweetheart,” smiling down at you. Reaching up, you ran your fingers into his hair, moving it off his forehead. “Morning, sweetheart,” you echoed, smiling back.

You and Billy had shared a bed but nothing else, except hugs and hand-holding. You were in your PJ’s - well, camisole top with matching shorts - and all Billy had on were his boxer briefs. You couldn’t deny you’d had thoughts of just leaping on him during the night... let’s face it, he was one hot dude. And he knew how to ‘look after’ a woman in bed, as he himself put it.

But no, you were determined he was gonna have to work for it, just like he promised he would. So you’d had to show some self-discipline, well, a lot of it, actually. He’d passed the first test - he’d actually stayed all night. Usually he was gone before the morning light stole through the curtains.

Now, he kissed your bare shoulder and leapt out of bed, like he was back in the Marines. He stood still for a moment, sideways next to the bed, having a leisurely full body stretch. Billy knew full well you’d be totally enjoying the view. A little tease from him to remind you what you were missing.

The sunlight, which stole through a small gap between your curtains in the otherwise dim room, picked out the sculpted muscles on his back & torso. Then he turned slightly more, ensuring you wouldn’t miss seeing the hard-on he was currently sporting. You shook your head, with a slight smile on your lips. The cocky big bastard.

“Where you off to, Billy?” you asked, thinking to yourself, if he’s headed to Anvil, he can fucking shove his second cha......

“I’m gonna make my beautiful almost-girlfriend a cup of good Italian coffee.”

You smiled at his departing back as he disappeared out of the bedroom. “Oh, Billy?”

His voice drifted back through from the kitchen, “Yeah, darlin’?”

“Can I please get some toast with that, too?”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

You stretched luxuriously, nestling your head into your pillows.

Looked like you were going to find out what having a panther on a leash was like.

#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #that swept back hair

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issaxcharlie · 3 years

Text

You are the music in me

Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Julie Molina

Request: SICK FIC JUKE: “Juke live together (but not dating yet) with Alex and Reggie all in apartment, both Julie and Luke wake up sick as dogs (flu/strep up to you) and force stay home from classes,sick by Alex. While being alone basically all day they finally admitted they like each other more than friends and get together when they start feeling better few days later.”

THANK YOU FOR YOUR REQUEST ANON🤍

This is not how Julie and Luke saw each other spending the weekend. They took care of Alex for a whole week together and just when the drummer began to feel better, his friends fell to the flu. To stop the chain of illness, Julie decided that it was best for Reggie and Alex to stay in Willie's instead of the apartment the four friends share until she and Luke recovered, but two stubborn patients taking care of each other is a somewhat chaotic combination.

"I can't take those pills, they are huge!" The guitarist has his arms crossed, his lips completely closed in a grimace almost impossible to undo.

"Luke, I've seen you eat two meatball sandwiches at the same time, I’m pretty sure one pill is not going to kill you."

He was about to continue fighting when Julie turns to cough. Every minute that passes she looks weaker and probably what she needs the least is to be carrying with his tantrums. So he takes the pills from her and passes them after maybe 15 tries and 3 possible chokes. Julie laughs slightly with each attempt, satisfied that at least he is trying for her.

Once they both finally finish taking all of their meds, Luke uses what little strength he has left to carry her in bridal style to her room. Julie tries to resist but her lack of strenght is way too much.

"Let yourself be taken care of, Molina." He whispers in her ear as he draws her closer to him. When they finally get to the room Luke gently lays her down on the bed and covers her in blankets to the best of his ability.

He feels bad for her. Because yes, he was there during Alex's illness, but the truth is that he didn't do much. The only reason he got sick is because he shares a room with him. On the other hand, Julie was faithfully taking care of her friend, taking his temperature, reminding him at the correct time about his medicines to the point of setting alarms at 4 in the morning just to make sure he got up to take them, made him hot meals and tea, she was the perfect nurse.

And what does she have instead? Him. The one who hates taking pills, doesn’t know how to take the temperature, much less what time the medicines are due, and he definitely doesn't know how to cook much more than a sandwich.

But something the aspiring musician does know how to do and sure as hell will do for her is giving her all the cuddles she might need (and probably want).

Luke walks to the other side of the bed and sits on the empty side, bringing burrito Julie into his arms, her resting her head on his chest.

He takes a few seconds to enjoy the situation. Yes, it is not at all what they expected to do today, on Saturdays they usually write all morning and rehearse all afternoon to go to some small club to play at night. The band was completely their priority on weekends as they had to study and work to support themselves, so the guitarist couldn't remember a Saturday where they stayed like this, doing nothing but enjoying each other.

Luke had become so immersed in that routine that he had simply sunk to the bottom those feelings that usually shine bright as the sun when they write or sing together or in rare moments like this one when he has her all for him, their hearts beating as one.

Realizing that he liked Julie was as easy as discovering his passion for music. When is her, everyday situations like hearing her rave happily about something that happened during the day feels like listening to his favorite song at full volume. And there’s the other side of it, those special moments like performing on a stage together. The sensations he gets are on a league of their own, their chemistry growing and enveloping in this mesmerizing explosion of energy. She’s this beautiful bright star that for some strange miracle, he is blessed to admire closely without burning.

The love and admiration he feels for her is so big that it terrifies him. In his experience, these types of sensations are not free. His passion for music completely cost him the relationship with his parents, not even the effort of continuing in school has made them give his dream of being a musician a chance.

What will it cost him to chase Julie in a romantic way? Their friendship? The band? What if things don't turn out as he would like and they end up fighting and separating the one thing that has cost them so much to build? Sleepless nights, hunger, blood, sweat, raising this dream has not been easy, could he really dare to risk it in this way? Could he be so selfish?

He often forces himself to think he couldn’t, but at that moment, Julie Molina swings her body to the side so she can look at him head on. Her big, beautiful dark eyes fixed on his.

“You aren’t usually quiet for more than 5 minutes, are you alright? Does something hurt? Do you want me to check your temperature?" With some effort, she manages to free the arm that is not resting on the bed and gently touches Luke's forehead, making sure he is okay.

He can't help but grin in response. She’s just so perfect. She shares the same passion as him, she fully understands the magical feeling of being on stage and it provokes on her the same excitement and adrenaline. She is sweet and cares about everyone, even loves his friends as much as he does. She is determined, smart, funny, beautiful. A lot of times he can't even understand how someone so perfect exists. And she not only exists, but is there next to him, wrapped in his arms.

“I- I’m fine, everything is fine, I promise. Focus on resting that angelic voice of yours.” She blushes as if that is not an already well established fact. He can’t help but look adoringly in response. He just loves to make her blush, being able to cause those reactions in her so easily.

You're right, I can't risk being replaced by one of the many groupies that have been after you lately." He can’t help a cocky grin, she blushes even more and decides to sink her head into his chest.

He takes advantage and hugs her even closer to him, bringing his head closer to her face to whisper in her ear.

"I could never replace you." He feels her expression changing in his chest, probably a smile. Her small hand squeezing his back in response.

“Liar.”

“Are you jealous, Molina? Because that’s hot.” She lets out a nervous laugh and Luke pulls her away just enough to be face to face.

“I’m not jealous.” She murmurs trying to sound sure, the image of those girls way too close to Luke at last weekend’s gig clouding her vision.

“Good, because you don’t have a reason to be.”

The singer looks down, she understood the opposite of what the guitarist was trying to say.

“H- Hey, no. I didn’t mean it like that.” With one of his fingers he carefully lifts her chin so he can see her eyes again.

There's a part of Luke that tells him to take a moment to think about what to say. The logical and sinic part. The one who knows that what he is going to do is going to cost him.

But the other party, the one who has been in love with Julie Molina for 2 years, is already tired of waiting and ready to take a leap of faith. And today that his mind is tired and weak, heart conquers logic.

Neither has spoken aloud about their special relationship, but they know something is there. It is a wordless fact between the two. And maybe it's time to add words to the melody.

“I meant you really don’t have to because all I hear, is you. I have tried to find peace in my soul with hundreds and hundreds of melodies, Julie. And it wasn't until I heard your voice that I found the right one.

Why would I even want to think of anyone else when I have so much more than I could have imagined across the hall every day? It’s always you. You, making sure I eat when I’m in my obsessive writer mode. You, stroking my hair when you think I fell asleep. You, spying me with your beautiful eyes between classes to make sure I’m actually on school. You, watching musicals with me till 5 am on Saturdays even thought we had one hell of a difficult day and a tired night just because you love to see my reactions. You, worried about me feeling bad when you are clearly sicker. It’s always you, Julie.”

In a moment of bravery, Julie brushes her lips against Luke's, waiting for him to make the final decision, which he doesn't take two seconds to make by capturing her lips on his, savoring finally being able to know what it feels like to kiss Julie Molina.

That it tasted like honey was not something that surprised him after seeing her eat several tablespoons of honey with lemon before bringing her to rest.

“Luke, remember when we watched High School Musical 2?” She grins, clearly happy with what just happened.

“Yeah, like a month ago.” he seems surprised with the random question but smiles to encourage her.

“Well, I mentally dedicated you ‘you are the music in me.’ Huh, It feels good to get it off my chest.”

He laughs. Anyone else would be offended or at least scared that the other person won't talk about what just happened, but they have a different connection. Music is the one who unites their souls and for she to tell him something as powerful as ‘you are the music in me’ is almost as strong as an I love you, maybe even stronger. Practically her subtle, awkward and wholesome way of saying he’s her person too.

And that’s more than perfect for him. She doesn’t need to say a speech, much less now that she is not feeling well. The love she shows him in a thousand ways every day is more than enough.

He knows that when they both improve and logic regains territory they will have a lot to discuss about their new relationship, but the most important step has already been taken. For now, all he has to worry about is that the tea turns out drinkable enough and keeping her warm enough with cuddles and kisses on the forehead... maybe some more on the lips too.

THANK YOU FOR READING✨✨

#luke patterson fanfiction #juke #juke imagine #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson fanfic #jatp juke #jatp luke #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie one shot #charlie gillespie x reader #jatp imagine #jatp #julie and the phantoms #luke x julie #julie x luke #julie molina #luke patterson fic #luke patterson oneshot #luke patterson

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whatissleepeven · 4 years

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Even If We're Betrayed by Destiny Itself (Obey Me! Drabble)

Thunder rumbled outside of the House of Lamentation, a crash of lightning following closely after and briefly lighting the sky.

Beel watched the sudden fat raindrops hit the windows, increasing in intensity until he could barely see the outside world anymore. It was currently 11:00pm on a Saturday, and he had found some leftover sushi from dinner to munch on before the sudden storm rolled in.

"Belphie's probably fast asleep..." He murmured to himself, remembering how his twin brother was practically cocooned in his blankets with a peaceful smile on his face.

"Tonight's gonna be a good one," the Avatar of Sloth had said sleepily before rolling over and clocking out for the night. Beel at the time was confused on what he meant, but now that he saw the storm he realized what the other was talking about.

Sometimes, I swear my brothers use magic.

A creak in the living room made him pause. He knew Levi was usually up, but his older brother rarely left his room at this time. Everyone else preferred to sleep in, but even Beel had to admit that there was a certain charm to having the House to yourself.

He walked over to the entryway and poked his head into the living room. Sure enough, the fireplace was lit and someone was nodding off on the sofa.

Beel finished eating, washing his hands and padding over to grab the blanket Mammon had haphazardly thrown onto the chair, making a conscious effort to keep his footsteps quiet as he rounded to the front of the sofa.

Honestly, it shocked him a bit to see Lucifer curled against the armrest, tucked away into the corner of the sofa; if Beel didn't know better, Lucifer was just lounging to anyone who passed by.

The dark bags underneath his eyes, tinged with the slightest bit of red at the corners, tipped him off.

He gently draped the blanket over Lucifer's body, his expression turning into one of worry. What could have possibly shaken the usually unflappable Lucifer? Mammon's debts? Asmo's spending sprees? Did you get into trouble again?

...Or is it -

Lucifer shifted, bringing the blanket closer to himself and settling in with a pleased hum, and Beel couldn't help the warm smile that formed at the sight. Whatever the problem was, they could tackle it together as a family.

I'm supposed to be his bodyguard, after all.

He frowned, his stomach growling at him to grab something else from the kitchen. That was in the past, though, and Lucifer was plenty capable of protecting himself. He used to be the Morning Star, an angel who shined brightly and seemed practically untouchable. Why would he even need a bodyguard in the first place?

- So that they had a way of subjugating him if he ever got out of hand, and that something like the Fall wouldn't happen. You were their contingency plan, and you failed. You failed both them, and your family.

"That's quite the expression you have on your face, Beel."

Beel blinked, eyes widening as he quickly located the source. Lucifer was sitting up, the blanket slipping off his shoulders and pooling around his waist as his crimson eyes shone with-...with something.

Beel shook his head, glancing him over. "It's not like you to be out here at this hour."

"Is it, now?" Lucifer's voice had an amused lilt to it, the elder brother patting the cushion beside him. "Sit down."

Beel stepped back with a frown. "I was gonna head back to my roo- "

Lucifer's gaze pierced him. "Sit."

Beel took a hesitant seat next to him, keeping his sight on his hands and on the ground as he rested his arms on his thighs.

Lucifer turned to face him. "Were you up for one of your nightly scavenges?"

Beel nodded. "Yeah. I saw the rain coming down hard; I don't think it'll let up until the afternoon tomorrow."

Lucifer made a noise of agreement, and all was silent for a few minutes. Beel wondered if he could leave, because like always he and his brothers had a bad habit of dancing around a touchy subject or outright ignoring it completely -

"I had a dream. About...About the Celestial Realm."

Beel's eyes snapped over to him in shock. Lucifer merely settled back into the sofa, letting out a short breath as he looked up at the ceiling.

The Avatar of Pride kept talking. "We were happy there. We were whole. All of you had such bright smiles on your faces back then, but now..."

- Oh.

Oh.

He could see where this was going.

"I think...I think we're happy here, too." Beel interrupted, feeling rather than seeing Lucifer's gaze trail over to him. "It's different from the Celestial Realm, but everyone still has fun. We're - We're still a family."

The last part came out less certain than he wanted it to. Lucifer picked up on it too, if him suddenly leaning forward to get a better look at his face was anything to go by.

Beel kept going, his hunger replaced by something softer, bittersweet. "I don't regret following you here, either. We stick together."

"Are you saying that because you want to, or because you feel the need to?"

Beel blinked up at him. Lucifer's gaze softened, a change so subtle that it was hard to notice. "Beel, what you say certainly makes me feel more at peace with my decisions, but your words seem to cause you pain. As your older brother, it is my duty to help you through this."

Beel didn't bother pointing out the irony of that statement. He was too wrapped up in his guilt thoughts, drawing a conclusion that hit him with the force of a hundred freight trains.

Why was I born if I couldn't even properly perform my role as Lucifer's bodyguard?

Is that all my existence amounts to? Does...Does that make me a failure?

"Beel."

Gloved hands cupped his face, turning his head to the side. Lucifer's own concerned face was a bit blurry, warping slightly from the warm liquid that pooled at his eyes, and wait why was there pressure there in the first place? He was fine a second ago, he needs to be fine -

"Is this how you've felt this entire time?"

Beel raised a hand to wipe the tears away, cheeks red with shame. Judging by Lucifer's reaction, he must've let slip what was on his mind ever since he found the older brother sleeping on the couch. He didn't mean for it to happen; he was supposed to be the Hungry Sixth Born, the one who focused on nothing but what to eat for his next meal. "...Yeah. Sorry about that."

"There's nothing to apologize for, Beel." Lucifer wiped a couple of tears away himself, and Beel marvelled at how caring he was again. He knew that it was thanks to your hard work, helping patch things up between the broken family and sewing it into something wonderfully new, and made a mental note to share some of his food with you during breakfast tomorrow.

"It's true though, isn't it?"

Lucifer removed his hands, eyes widening at his words. Beel was thankful for the lack of tears this time, his voice a bit shaky but overall stable enough to get his words across. "I was created with the intention of protecting you, but we still ended up here."

He couldn't even perform a simple task, for crying out loud, much less the only one he had. Their Father was surely laughing at him even after all of the centuries that have passed since the Fall, pointing out the irony of the protector turning into the protected.

Fate had seen fit to give him a clear role, but Fate also led him to utterly fail, even going as far as to take his sister away from his family due to one simple decision he made. It was a moment he would never forget; it was like a knife was plunged into his heart, cruelly twisting farther and farther as it ripped him to shreds the second Lilith's screams of agony pierced the air.

"Look at me." Lucifer's commanding tone seeped back into his voice, and Beel had no choice but to obey.

"No one faults you for what occurred back then. It took a irritatingly persistent human to point it out, but we cannot remain stuck in the past for the rest of our lives; we must move forward. What happened was painful, and will continue to be painful, but not once did I think of you as a failure.

"This merely means that your role isn't to be my guardian; it's to be my loveable younger brother."

To be...just a younger brother...?

Beel gaped at him. Was...Was that even an option? There was still so much he needed to do to help, and he was made to be both a shield and a prison for Lucifer (though he quickly discarded any and all thoughts associated with the latter, because he loved Lucifer too much to do that to him). "But - "

A finger flicked his forehead. "No buts. Nothing short of an affirmation will satisfy me."

Beel held a hand to the stinging spot, averting his gaze to the sofa cushions. This was new, this was weird, but if Lucifer said it was okay then... "Okay. I'll do my best."

Lucifer's lips twitched into a ghost of a smile. "Good. Now come here."

Beel shifted closer as Lucifer beckoned him over, letting out a noise of surprise as he was pulled into a half hug.

"We rebelled precisely because we wanted things to change. Change isn't merely external; the most impactful are the ones that come from within. What matters the most is that we always stay true to ourselves, even if the entire world is against us."

Being in Lucifer's hold was...nice. Beel could feel his eyes dropping, threatening to close shut as he mumbled. "...Even if Fate stands in our way?"

Lucifer used his free hand to skillfully adjust the blanket so that it also enveloped Beel, staring into the flickering flames in the fireplace. Beel's breathing had evened out relatively quickly; the time and the sudden tears must've exhausted him.

His eyes softened into a gentle look as he glanced at his sleeping brother.

"Even if we are betrayed by destiny itself."

And if you found them the next morning wrapped up in a single blanket and leaning against each other, the other brothers having joined them sometime after and sleeping against them, you would never tell another soul.

...

Well, except for Simeon and Diavolo, who you immediately sent pictures to.

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corpse--diem · 3 years

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Can I Be Your Memory? | Marley & Erin

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @detectivedreameater & @corpse–diem SUMMARY: Erin tries to lift Marley’s spirits with a horror movie marathon. It doesn’t work. Marley’s condition only continues to worsen. CONTENT WARNINGS: head injury tw, memory loss tw, car accident tw (mention only)

When Marley opened her eyes, for a moment, she couldn’t even remember what day it was. The jarring nature of the thought made her sit up a little too quickly for the pain that was still stabbing her sides. Wincing, she laid back down, rubbing her head. The clock told her it was still daytime. Morning, actually. Almost noon. God, how long had she slept? She couldn’t remember. It was becoming an increasing problem. Maybe Erin was on to something, maybe she really should get here head checked out. She hadn’t thought she’d hit it that hard, that bad, but the blackouts were getting more and more frequent, and she was feeling more and more lethargic. Stiffly, she sat up and managed enough to pull her sweatpants on-- god sweatpants, she hated sweatpants-- and shuffled out of the room and towards the kitchen. She heard someone moving around and had to remind herself that this was Erin’s apartment and there was supposed to be someone in the kitchen. Probably. She came around the corner and stopped in the doorway, rubbing her eyes again. “Got any coffee?” she grumbled.

Work had beckoned her out of bed early that morning. It was Saturday and technically, Erin didn’t need to squirrel away in her office for a few hours, but she’d wanted to clear as much of the weekend as she could manage to spend time with Marley. The other woman hadn’t hid how miserable she was and it felt just as miserable not being able to do anything to truly help her pain. But she could force her to take care of herself, to rest and to distract her from the mind-numbing boredom she was surely incurring. It’d help distract her from the ever-increasing stress pains that came with watching her symptoms slowly but very surely deteriorating. “Morning, sleepyhead,” she glanced back as Marley trudged in, her sleepy voice bringing a quick smile to lips. She nodded to the pot on the counter. “Do I ever not?” Sleep was never a guarantee under this roof, doing what she did. A constant cycle of coffee was basically essential. She watched her warily, pulling out a pan from the cabinet. “How are you feeling? Do you want me to pour some for you?”

Marley looked blearily around the room. Erin was always doing something, keeping her body moving, and it made Marley exhausted just watching her. “No, I got it,” she mumbled, shuffling over to the counter and picking up the pot and one of the mugs Erin kept out. It felt almost routine and she couldn’t help but smile fondly at the thought. Marley hadn’t had routine in her life for a long time, even when Anita was around. Her hand shook the longer she held the pot and she set it down, deflating as if it had been the heaviest weight. Her ribs ached with the breath. “I feel like someone’s squeezing my insides, actually,” she grumbled, lifting the cup to her mouth to take a long swig. The hot liquid warmed all the way down her throat into the pit of her stomach. A small relief, but one all the same. She rubbed her eyes again. “Are you working today?”

Erin felt guilty for the way she watched Marley out of the corner of her eye, not completely trusting her assurances about handling the coffee on her own. The slow speed and shaky hands weren’t a promising start. But she was smiling for some reason so she kept her distance, giving her space to do it without pressure, but close enough to step in to stop a potential mess. She winced. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” she replied, understanding all too well. Wasn’t all that long ago she’d felt the same lung crushing pain after Roy had thrown her around like a rag doll. Her brows narrowed and she stifled the flare in her chest, busying herself again with readying the ingredients she needed. “Not if I can help it,” she said, tossing her a quick smile. “I took care of some paperwork while you were sleeping, and I have someone on-call, so…” She gave pause, making a show of setting the butter and popcorn kernels on the counter next to her. “I’m all yours today.” Arms crossed, she rested a hip against the counter, grinning with earnest now. “How about that movie marathon?”

“Oh, did you finally hire a new receptionist? Or...whatever job that scrawny kid had?” Marley asked, holding the cup with both hands when she noticed a tremor in them. She felt more exhausted than she figured she should, considering all she did nowadays was fucking sleep. Hadn’t she just woken up? Her eyes went down to the objects Erin proudly set on the counter next to her, and Marley had to squint at them for a moment before she understood what they were. “Guess it can’t hurt,” she said, shrugging. Winced as her ribs gave a stab. “Okay, well-- it might hurt a little, but--” she rattled the bottle of pain pills she’d brought with her-- “that’s what these are for.” She felt as if she’d been on them forever, despite the bits of time when she’d refused to take them. She didn’t know what kind of human medications she could actually take, but this Oxycodine seemed to be working very well. “Can I watch?” she asked suddenly, looking over at Erin. “Watch you make the popcorn. Never seen it done before.”

Erin snorted a small laugh at that. “Rio,” she corrected her, though the smile didn’t last long when her mind drifted to his replacement. “I did,” she said, the words drawing out longer than they should have, biding her timing as she struggled over the best way to explain herself. “She’s good. Not that Rio was bad at his job or anything but life experience makes a difference in a position like that.” She paused, tapping against the counter, then moved to tug a stool closer to the counter for Marley to sit and watch. “Her name’s Chloe. Chloe Brown,” she said simply, turning her back to start. She wasn’t sure how she’d take that bit of news, if she’d even remember the woman’s name from the news article, but her nerves wouldn’t allow her to stand still while she waited. “Warning you now though, it’s not the most interesting process. A lot of it’s just waiting for the kernel’s to pop.” Tossing a smile over her shoulder, she shrugged and started to put the butter in the pot.

Marley moved gratefully toward the stool, sinking onto it and wheezing out a breath of pain. She put a hand to her ribs and felt the stiff ace wrap under her shirt, forcing her to sit up straight and keep her ribs in place. Couldn’t put a cast on broken ribs, after all. She looked across the counter to Erin as she began preparing the popcorn, nearly choking on her coffee as the name was said. Chloe Brown. The only survivor of Lydia’s ordeal. Her hand tightened on the cup and she set it down hastily, gripping the handle probably harder than necessary. “Chloe Brown? As in--” she didn’t want to say her name, she barely even wanted to think about her. What would Marley think, now, every time she saw that woman’s face? Every time she came to Erin’s? She tried to push those thoughts away and looked down. “How’d that happen?”

Oop. Yep. Marley remembered. Erin confirmed it was the same Chloe Brown with a nod, though she remained silent as she watched her try to figure it out on her own for a few moments. No doubt a few other unpleasant thoughts came to mind. It was part of the reason she’d been waiting to share the news. Her brows narrowed. “She’s a friend?” The answer came out like a question but it wasn’t. Chloe was a friend, at least on her way to one. A work in progress. “We met online, talking about bad movies, that kind of thing. She came over once even, to watch Sharknado.” Erin smiled at the awkward but pleasant memory. “I mentioned I was hiring and she put in an application. It’s not easy to find good help, especially with the reputation the place has now and--I didn’t know she was the Chloe Brown until the interview.” The kernels clattered into the saucepan along with the butter and some spices, breaking the momentary silence with the noise. “Things got even more awkward after that, to say the least. Explained why she made me touch an iron pendant the first time we met, though.”

Marley was quiet as Erin explained. She didn’t know how to feel about it, but she didn’t know how to feel about a lot of things. Some good her stupid behavioral sciences degree did, huh? She looked down into her coffee cup, trying to figure out what it meant. Was it guilt? For all the times Marley was at Lydia’s place, and didn’t know, didn’t care, to check around the house. To look any further than the ten steps it took to get to her staircase and the fifteen to her bedroom? Was she responsible for Chloe’s suffering, just as much as anyone else who knew her but didn’t know her? Kernels ricocheted off the pan and Marley snapped to attention, sagging in the chair. “I didn’t know you were friends with her,” was all she said after a long moment. The smell of butter and crisping kernels filled the air and Marley wondered, again, if there was any part of this life she deserved, when most of herself had been crushed in a warehouse and the rest of if left town for Mexico. “Iron? Oh, right, cause…” she trailed off, swallowing. Her head felt bloated. “I’m glad you found someone.”

“Believe it or not, you’re not my only friend,” Erin teased lightly, trying to edge out some of the tension that’d filled the room. Marley was quiet--that wasn’t anything entirely new. She was a woman of few words and Erin had learned to read between the lines. “Me too. She’s been having a hard time finding somewhere to work too, with her uh--history. It worked out for the both of us.” She managed a small smile, and when the popcorn was ready to go, she turned the burner on, covered it with a lid, and stepped back to let it work its magic. The coffee on the counter beckoned her name. “What are you thinking?” She asked, taking a slow sip, sidling up next to Marley’s stool. She couldn’t always read between the lines.

The words passed through Marley’s head without her really hearing them. Sometimes she couldn’t help it, it just happened. Her brain wouldn’t focus because it was fucked up and liked to steal her away from the present. She blinked and looked up and Erin was sitting at the table. When had she gotten there? She couldn’t recall. The lid was on the pot now and she blinked. “What?” she asked, turning to look at Erin. “I-- sorry. What did you say? I didn’t…” hear it? Comprehend it? She wasn’t sure. Her brows creased together and she drew in a breath, holding it for a moment. These episodes were getting worse and worse and she didn’t know if it was because of the accident or something else. She hadn’t fed in a while, either. She could feel the hunger in her bones. “Do uh-- do broken ribs usually make people this out of it?” How would she know? She never really paid attention. She never really understood.

Alarm shot through Erin and at the genuine uncertainty in Marley’s features. “No,” she answered, trying to hide the fear in her voice. Her eyes shot to the still healing cut on Marley’s forehead and she sat up a little straighter. “What just happened?” She asked, trying to understand what was going on behind those eyes. The blankness in them didn’t do anything to quell those fears or lessen the stress building in her shoulders. God damn it, she cursed to herself, ready to pull out her phone and call the doctor. They should have done this already. They shouldn’t have waited. “Where’d you go?”

Marley finally let go of her cup and pressed her palms into her eyes, as if she could just push away the confusion and pain. She blinked and looked over at Erin again. “I-- don’t know. It’s just--” she let out her breath, and ran her hands through her hair-- “I’m here and then I’m not and then I’m back, and I don’t remember any of the time in between. That’s-- that’s it.” It was happening again, like when her head had first been messed up. Losing chunks of time, not knowing how long she’d been out, forgetting what she had been doing. She shifted and looked over at Erin, eyes nothing but tired and worn out. She was so sick and tired of being sick and tired. “It feels like before, but...worse.”

Erin stopped, really stopped, and took a long hard look at Marley. She wasn’t alright--that much she knew already, but her injuries and the stress they brought were so clearly taking their toll. And now it was getting worse? Erin’s chest tightened and her mouth felt dry as she nodded, blinking, trying to sort out their next plan of action. That was her role here and she was more than happy to fill it. She didn’t trust anyone else to. Not even Anita, when they’d briefly discussed her taking some of the load from Erin’s shoulders. Turns out her instincts had been right on that one. “I’ll call your doctor,” she said quietly in response, knowing there was nothing else they truly could do. It was out of their hands at this point. She willed her voice to sound more sure as she continued. “We’ll see what she has to say and go from there. I’m sure hitting your noggin after what you already went through didn’t help anything.” Her eyes scanned over her again, soft and concerned, like she’d find something helpful, a clue, anything she’d missed before. “Is there anything else? How often is this happening?”

Marley could feel the concern in Erin’s gaze without even having to look at her. It wouldn’t have mattered much, anyway, considering her vision was blurry, and getting blurrier each day. She blinked and tried to focus. The smell of popcorn began to permeate the apartment. She barely heard Erin say she was going to call the doctor, too fixated on her own thoughts and the scent filling the kitchen. She really wished she could’ve kept it together for like a few more hours before her head messed up shit again. Wasn’t it enough that her ribs hurt? She’d just wanted to give Erin a break, she deserved a break. She’d been taking care of Marley constantly-- probably nonstop since Marley had shown up at her apartment, half-dead and one-hundred percent drunk. Erin’s voice broke through the stream of conscience and Marley blinked again, turning to look at her. “How--” often, her brain reminded her. How often is this happening. “Daily,” she admitted quietly, unable to hold Erin’s gaze. “More than once a day.”

Erin ignored the popping in the background as best as she could. She didn’t want it now anyway. Her stomach turned at the smell and her throat tightened, more frightened than she’d been for Marley since she had watched her collapse onto the warehouse floor with a freshly cracked skull. Just as helpless now as she was then. “And you didn’t--” she started, trying to conceal some of the emotion leaking through. Stopped. Tried again. “Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked, her voice only marginally calmer. Her head shook slowly and she reached forward, grabbing her hand in an attempt to ground both of them, though if Erin was honest, she needed it more for herself right then. “You have to tell me this stuff, Marley. I don’t care how tired or busy I am. I need to know. I need to know so we can keep you okay and al--” She stopped abruptly, her face flustering as she pulled herself together. Again. “I need to know, even if you’re scared too.”

Marley could hear the concern choking Erin’s voice and it made her own throat close up and her own eyes water just slightly. She turned away and pretended to rub her head as a cover for wiping her eyes. “Because I-- wasn’t sure they were real,” she mumbled, swallowing thickly as she looked back over at Erin. “I wasn’t sure if I just...imagined it. Or something.” It was a terrible excuse, she knew that, but when she couldn’t trust her own head, how could she trust what she was feeling was real? What she was seeing was real? She rubbed at her eyes again. The popcorn made a loud noise and she startled, jumping in her chair. Her gaze fell back to Erin. To her hand over Marley’s. It felt warm. She wanted to hold it back. She didn’t move. “What if one day...I’m afraid that one day I’m going to wake up and have nothing of myself left. I-- I think I’m losing myself.”

She couldn’t trust herself. Couldn’t trust her own mind to see things for what they were. “Tell me anyway,” Erin managed, her nearly whispered words finally breaking the heavy silence that fell between them. The pan popped in the background, growing more incessant as time drew on, and she knew she’d have to pull away and take care of it before it burned eventually, but it would take something short of another fire to drag her attention away. “You won’t,” Erin assured her quickly, almost too quickly, but even for the way her voice strained, there was nothing but a calm resilience in her words. The how’s of it didn’t matter. She’d figure it out. She always did. This wouldn’t be any different. “You won’t. I won’t let that happen,” she promised, familiar guilt trickling in, reminding her that she’d done this. That it was Erin’s fault that Marley was like this, that she was suffering. Her hand squeezed tighter around her fingers and a tight smile replaced a deep frown. “You’re Marley Stryder. You’re the most badass, intelligent, bravest detective I’ve ever met.” She raised her other hand, pointing a finger before Marley could interrupt, realizing she was sniffling herself now. “And no, you’re not the only detective I’ve ever met. Last year made sure of that,” she chided, her smile softening. “But if you need it, I’ll remind you of all of that too.”

Erin was being a lot more confident about all this than Marley, but she was just so tired. Maybe, for now, she’d just let herself believe Erin’s words. She didn’t have the energy-- or the heart-- to fight her on this. To tell Erin that she felt as if she were losing more and more of herself every day. As if something were draining her away. Taking the pieces of herself that she understood and eating them. She rubbed her eyes and found her hand came away wet. Oh, when had she started crying? No, she wasn’t crying. There were just tears clouded in her eyes. She blinked them away. “Sure,” she said finally, “I’ll tell you. Everything.” If I remember. She didn’t add that part. The popcorn was yelling every few seconds now, but Erin wasn’t moving. Marley glanced over at the pot and saw the lid dancing with each kernel explosion. “Uh, should you-- get that?” she asked, turning to look back at Erin. “If you burn my first ever homemade popcorn, I don’t know if I can forgive you.”

Erin let out a breath--it wasn’t exactly full of relief but she supposed it was the closest thing to it in that moment. Marley’s promise helped though, even if watching her eyes grow wet like that always made her chest sting. “Right,” she sighed, a faint chuckle on that same breath. The popcorn. She pulled her hands away, back into herself, and jumped up to grab the popcorn off the burner. After inspecting the bounty in the bowl, she was glad to see that only a small portion of it had reached the burning stage. Generally edible. Her stomach still turned and the smile she greeted her with, bowl in tow, felt hollow. “Did you, uh, still want to--” She gestured towards the living room. “I can meet you in there after I call the doctor?”

Marley looked behind her when Erin gestured and remembered they were supposed to have a horror movie marathon today. She had all the movies set out on the table in a little display. Something tumbled into Marley’s chest, a familiar feeling that she thought, perhaps, she’d just imagined. But if she was feeling it again, then maybe it was real. “Yeah, yes,” she said, turning to look back at Erin. “We gotta do something with our Sunday, right?” She wasn’t exactly hopeful that things would pan out well, especially with what the doctor would say, but she wasn’t going to let that ruin the day if she could help it. “Sure, yeah,” she nodded, standing back up and grabbing her coffee cup. It was helping a little, the coffee. She didn’t feel completely exhausted, even if it still hung on her bones like a curse. “I’ll meet you in there.”

For all the bravado she’d thrown Marley’s way, Erin deflated the moment Marley hobbled into the next room. The energy she’d started the day off with, the flicker of excitement of the afternoon she’d planned was snuffed out in one heaving blow. She was usually better at this, about hiding her stress and worry from Marley. Something about this didn’t feel right, though, and it was a feeling she couldn’t shake. Marley didn’t look or sound good, and the way her worry made her stomach roll was hard to ignore. She was thankful she’d already seen most of those movies a dozen times. Her mind wasn’t here at all. “I’ll bring out the popcorn--and don’t start without me!” She called after her, trying to insert some enthusiasm into her voice.

This was fine. This was nothing a cat scan or an MRI or whatever they needed from her couldn’t find. It was nothing they couldn’t fix. This was fixable. Marley would be fine and continue positively progressing like she had before the car accident. She pulled out her phone, dialing the number to her doctor, repeating it over and over until the words, feeling and sounding like a broken record, carried her through this phone call.

#chatzy #wickedswriting #chatzy: marley #head trauma tw #memory loss tw #car accident tw #mention only #//just some sad gays being sad and gay again

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mccall-scott · 4 years

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jj spends all the restitution money on a hot tub and misses his hearing. he doesn’t tell pope.

a mayward one-shot that has been floating around my head since the first time I watched the show. i've read so many post-canon mayward fics (and they’re all great) but none of the ones i’ve read really address jj’s restitution money. i wanted this to be longer but i hate writing about legal stuff since i don’t understand it, so this is somewhat short. i don’t think i’m gonna make a part two, but i might write like an established relationship drabble in this same series/universe/canon.

Pope knows it’s a bad idea to go to JJ’s house. He’s been there a handful of times before and usually Luke is off playing poker, working, or getting drunk at his favorite bar. This time is different, though. This time, it’s been two weeks since he’s heard from JJ and JJ has no idea Pope is coming. The last time Pope showed up out of the blue JJ was sending bullets through his childhood teddy bear.

When Pope parked his car in the driveway of beaten down grass and sand, it was like looking at still water. The only movement or sign of life surrounding the house was the soft sea breeze rippling through the branches and the tattered screens that no longer stuck to their frames. Pope hesitated before stepping out of the car.

Luke is a scary dude. Luke scares Pope more than anybody on the island and when he opens the front door, he looks pissed.

“The hell do you want?”

Pope figured it was obvious—that he had come for JJ—but Luke didn’t appear to be connecting any of the dots. Pope glanced over Luke’s shoulder, he had never seen the inside of JJ’s house. Dishes, dust balls, and bottles littered the living room where Pope could see. The smell was strong and Pope couldn’t tell what it was. It didn’t smell like weed, but it also didn’t smell like a cigarette. He figured it must be a mix of sweat, alcohol, and garbage. The only thing he could even compare it to was bile.

“Is JJ home?”

“No.” Short and stark. His eyes didn’t even blink and he looked ready to close the door so Pope quickly interjected, still keeping his distance.

“When will he be home?”

“He’s not.”

Which wasn’t even a full sentence and Pope couldn’t figure out what Luke meant by it.

“What?”

Luke rolled his eyes and sighed as if Pope was a nail under his foot.

“He’s not coming home, kid. So get out of here.”

“Why? Where is he?” Pope knew he shouldn’t push, especially with someone like Luke, but his answers were vague and peculiar and the last time Pope saw JJ was the night John B died. He needed to make sure JJ was okay.

“Wadesboro.”

Oh. Oh shit.

“What? Why?”

“Kid, I don’t have time for the interrogation. I have a business to run, so you get off my property before you make me mad.”

Pope thought Luke had been mad the whole time but now his fists were clenched and as much as Pope needed to keep asking, he knew the answers had already stopped coming.

“Thank you.”

“Get out of here.”

Luke had disappeared into the house by the time Pope was starting up the engine. Wadesboro? How the hell had JJ managed to get himself thrown in juvie in the two weeks since Pope had seen him? Not that JJ getting arrested shocked Pope, per se, but still it shocked him. Pope pulled out of the driveway and went fifteen over the speed limit until he got to Kie’s house.

“Kiara!” He called out as he padded his knuckles against her front door, ringing the bell enough times that his own father would give him a soft smack on the back of his head. “Kiara, open the door!”

He rang the bell two more times before the door opened and Kiara’s wide eyes met his own.

“What’s wrong?” she asked immediately, reaching out to tug him inside. Pope realized his hands were shaking a little bit when she wove her own through his.

“It’s JJ.”

“You finally heard from him?” She pulled him up the stairs and over to her bedroom. It was only the second time Pope had ever been in it and the lines were too straight, the floors too clean, and her shelves too neat for the room to feel like Kie’s.

“I went to his house,” he admitted and as Kie’s mouth opened wide to reprimand him, he continued. “He wasn’t home and his dad told me that he’s in Wadesboro.”

“Wadesboro?” Pope could tell she really didn’t understand because she still looked angry.

“Juvie.”

Her face dropped and she plopped down beside Pope.

“Why?”

“He wouldn’t tell me. What do we do?” Pope could feel the panic in his voice and Kie held onto his hand again and gave it a squeeze.

“We can use my dad’s lawyer. We can go visit him.”

“When can we visit him?”

“I don’t know. Here,” she said, opening up her phone to Google. “I’ll look up their visiting hours and we can go see him.”

“Do you think he’s scared?” Pope asked, because it felt wrong to ask if he was okay. He knew Kiara didn’t actually have a good answer for him. She just nodded and continued to type with her thumbs.

It calms Pope to watch her focused, watch her biting her lip. She finds the hours and tells Pope that next weekend they can go.

“That’s in four days away!” Pope exclaims, as if Kie doesn’t know and as if being upset could solve his problem. Usually, Pope is the one finding the solution but right now all he can think about is JJ sitting in a prison cell and an orange jumpsuit.

“Oh wait,” Kie interjects, softer and it worries Pope. “No, we can’t. He has to put us on a visitation list otherwise we can’t see him.”

“How do we contact him to put us on a visitation list if we can’t see him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Kie?”

“Yeah?” she asks, finally drawing her attention away from the phone and back to Pope. He feels himself near tears and he thinks she might be too. “Do you think this is my fault?”

“What? Of course, not,” she insists, her voice gentle and high and she squeezes his hand. “Why would you even think that?”

“I let him take the fall for me. What if he couldn’t pay back the restitutions and now he’s in jail because of me?”

“Juvie. He’s in juvie not prison.”

“it’s the same thing.”

“No, it’s not.”

“We have to help him.”

Her face softens again and she just nods, resting her head on his shoulder as if the idea how helping JJ has already exhausted her.

“We should talk to your dad’s lawyer, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe he can get us on a visitation list, at least.”

———————————————————————

“Who are you?” JJ asks when somebody who is absolutely not his lawyer takes a seat on the other side of the table. There is nobody else there but JJ can see the guard’s shoulder through the little square window on the door. His right hand is cuffed to the table and he’s sweating through his clothes and even he can smell his own odor. The man sitting down beside him has a suit and gelled hair and wristwatch. He smiles slightly at JJ and it makes him squirm.

“My name is Gabe Walters. I am your friend Kiara Carrera’s father’s lawyer. They’re really worried about you, bud.”

Bud sounds weird. Bud makes JJ feel even more uncomfortable and he wishes he had something in his hands to fiddle with.

“I already have a lawyer.”

“You have a public defender, is that right?”

JJ nods because, to be honest, he doesn’t know if that’s what the first guy was called. The new lawyer sounds very confident when he says it, so JJ just goes along with it.

“The Carrera’s would like for me to represent you. I think I can get you out of here. Is that something you would like?”

The way he worded that comment was sneaky and JJ knows this guy already thinks he’s a loose cannon. Maybe he is a loose cannon. He doesn’t want a pity lawyer. He has no idea how Kiara even found out he was in. juvie.

“I already have a lawyer,” he says again, quieter, because he really doesn’t know what to do and the guard outside has turned around to glance inside the room and it’s distracting. JJ adjusts the way he sitting and kicks as his toes.

“I can’t force you to do anything. But I have a lot more time and more resources than the lawyer you have now. I know, Jim, he’s a good guy. But he has a pile of cases so high he can’t see the top.”

JJ shrugged, wanting to say yes but also knowing very well that he couldn’t. He didn’t have the money to pay the restitution let alone pay a fancy lawyer to get him out of juvie for not having enough money.

“I can’t afford it anyway,” he finally said after a minute of silence that he was dying to break.

“I don’t think you understood, son. You wouldn’t owe me any money. The Carrera’s want to cover the legal fees.”

Fuck no.

“No, that’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“They shouldn’t have to pay anything.”

The lawyer sighed and rested his hands on the table. He was looking too deeply into JJ’s eyes so JJ reverted his gaze down to his lap, all too aware of how grimy and tired he looked. It was pathetic.

“I know how important pride can be, especially when you’re in a place like this where they’ll try to strip you of every ounce of what you’ve got. I sat where you when I was seventeen. I had a shit lawyer and I ended up serving three years for stealing a bag of chips. I didn’t have anybody in my life offering me a hand. You don’t have to take it, I’ll leave right now if you ask. But I’d think all of this over before you make your decision.”

It was patronizing, but comforting. JJ looked up and the lawyer’s eyes were still glued to his own.

“You think you can get me out?” JJ asked softly. The lawyer nodded.

“I can’t make any promises, but I think there’s a very strong possibility I could get you home within the next two weeks.”

Home. JJ wanted nothing more in the world to go home. His bed, his pillow, clean underwear, pooping with the door closed.

“Okay, then.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

———————————————————————

Kie’s dad’s lawyer gets her and Pope on the waiting list for the following weekend and she offers to drive since Pope is a terrible driver when he is anxious. Plus, he always goes exactly the speed limit and it makes Kie go ballistic. She picks him up Saturday morning and they stop at McDonald’s on the way there for breakfast.

Normally, Kie has music queued up for long car rides. Today the drive is silent.

After around five hours, they pull up to the detention center. It’s cold and lifeless and wrapped in a snake of barbed wire fences. There are boys outside playing basketball and walking around a track. Kie looks over to Pope and he looks paralyzed.

“If you can’t go in, it’s okay,” she tries to reassure him. She knows how scared he is of the prison. How scared he is to see JJ. She reaches out for his hand.

“I can do it,” he says, voice quiet but determined. Kie just nods and turns off the engine.

It takes them a few minutes to find the correct entrance and then they go through security, sign in, and take a seat in the waiting room. The chairs are made of plastic and leave imprints on Kie’s thighs but she can feel how close they are to JJ. There are a few other people in the waiting room, one looks like a lawyer, there is a set of grandparents, and a woman who is likely somebody’s mother. She’s crying and it makes Kie’s stomach churn. The two guards standing by the door are chatting, laughing. While the woman cries.

“Alright, this way,” a guard finally instructs the two of them down a hall. Kie can see windows beginning to line the wall ahead. It’s the visitation room. Her heartbeat increases and Pope squeezes her hand. “Only thirty seconds of touching, you cannot give him anything, and we have the right to escort you out immediately should the situation escalate.”

Kie isn’t paying attention to what the guard is saying because as he opens up the door to the room she spots a blond head of hair.

“JJ!” Pope cries, both of them dashing toward where JJ is sitting. He stands, turning to look at them, and they both stop in their tracks. He has a dark bruise lining his neck like a noose and his eye is purple. The smell is putrid. He doesn’t move, just blinks as he takes them in. A huge grin grows over his face and Pope throws himself at JJ.

Pope takes all thirty seconds so Kie just gives him the best smile she can muster up and takes a seat beside Pope. JJ won’t stop smiling and Kie wants to smile back, she really does, but he looks to terrible and Pope’s hands are shaking and there are way too many other people in the room.

“Are you okay, dude?” Pope speaks first, voice warm and grounding and it brings Kie out of her head and into the moment.

“Never been better,” JJ lies, giving them a shrug and his smile drops for a moment. She sees the exhaustion and hurt in his eyes before he brings the smile back, even if it’s just for a second it was there. “I mean, it could be a lot worse.”

“How long have you been here?” Kie asks. JJ doesn’t meet her eyes, just looks down at his hands and then up at Pope.

“Only a week.”

“What the hell happened?” she asks when he doesn’t elaborate.

“Missed my hearing. Forfeited my plea deal when I bought that stupid hot tub.”

Kie’s eyes are welling up by how cold his voice sounds. He’s still smiling but his eyes are hollow.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Pope asks, so delicately that Kie almost didn’t even hear it. “Do they let you use the phone.”

“It costs money to call somebody in a prison.”

“JJ,” Kie melts, feeling a tear roll down her cheek but she tries to wipe it away before anybody noticed. She knew she couldn’t get too emotional right now. She needed to focus on JJ right now.

“Call us tomorrow, yeah?” Pope asks, but it doesn’t sound like a question.

“There won’t be much new to talk about.”

“We’ve missed you.”

Kie nods her head in agreement, not trusting her own voice quite yet. JJ keeps his stupid fake smile on his face and scratches at the back of his neck. Involuntarily, he reminds them both of the bruising around his neck.

“How long are you going to be in here?” Pope asks.

“At least until my next hearing. Maybe longer.”

“When is the hearing? We’ll come,” Kie offered, her voice shaky but she tries to steady it.

“It’s two weeks from tomorrow,” JJ comments and Kie pictures him sitting in a cell and counting down the days. “And thanks, but since I’m under eighteen you actually can’t come.”

Pope lets out a trembling breath and Kie knows how hard he’s fighting not to break down. JJ still sounds and looks lifeless, hiding behind his smile.

There’s yelling from across the room and the guards are rushing over to break it up. They announce that visiting hours are over because of the fight and JJ loses his fake smile. The guards step closer to escort Pope and Kiara out but before they arrive JJ grabs a hold of Pope and tucks his head against his shoulder. Pope holds onto him for a moment—even kisses his forehead, which makes Kie really want to cry because Pope is the kindest person she knows—and then the guards pull them apart. They’re too aggressive with both of them and Kie wants to yell but she’s afraid and so she holds onto Pope and tells him that it’s going to be okay.

A guard manhandles JJ out of the room, his grip hard and frank, but JJ doesn’t look to put up a fight. He smiles to Pope and Kie. She can’t tell if it’s genuine but she gives him a small smile back until he’s being led out the door and Pope and herself out another. The visit was supposed to be a lot longer. Kie still has so much she wanted to ask.

The second they get in the car, Pope starts to cry. Kie shoves down her own desire to let it out and pulls Pope into a hug. His grip on her is tight and she buries her face against his chest as it bounces up and down to the rhythm of his cries.

———————————————————————

JJ calls Pope every day. He waits in line for usually about an hour or two until one of the phones is free and dials up Pope’s number—another guy had to teach him out to use the payphone, but it wasn’t that once he figured it out. Pope picks up after two rings every time. They talk until the guard tells JJ his time is up.

“How did the date go?” JJ asks since the day before Pope told JJ that he and Kiara were having a date night.

“It was nice.”

“High praise,” JJ jokes, and it feels so good to be light-hearted for a moment, to hear Pope chuckle through the phone. JJ feels hot eyes on his back from other guys waiting to use the phone but he curls toward the wall and clutches the phone close to his ear.

“Things are awkward between us. Like, we both care a lot about each other…” Pope trails off and JJ would let him finish but they don’t have an unlimited number of minutes.

“But?”

“But sometimes I wonder if us being together is actually a good idea.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Like, I care about her obviously. And we like spending time together but when it comes to the romantic stuff, it just feels weird.”

“She’s a bad kisser?”

“No! No. But, I mean, I don’t feel much emotionally when she kisses me.”

“But you feel it physically?” JJ laughs and he can feel Pope rolling his eyes.

“I’m being serious, JJ. I think we might break up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not going to affect the Pogues though. I mean, we’ve talked about it actually, what we would do if we broke up.”

“You know, talking about how you would handle a breakup in the first three weeks of dating usually isn’t a good sign,” JJ comments.

“You’re telling me. Have you heard any more from your lawyer about the hearing?”

“Nope.”

“Are you ready?”

“It’s not like I’m the one who actually has to do anything.”

“I’m ready for you to get out of there.”

“Me too.”

The guard tells JJ the time is up and Pope tells JJ he loves him. JJ says it back. It’s just something they do now.

JJ likes it a lot more than he would ever admit. He thinks about it when he sits back down on his bed. His roommate is reading a book, not angry right now like he usually is, and JJ lays down and stares at the cinderblock wall, thinking about Pope and Kie having to break up. Thinking about his hearing. Thinking about Pope. Thinking about his dad. Thinking about how he has to go to the bathroom but isn’t in the mood. Thinking about going home.

———————————————————————

Pope and Kie wait outside the courtroom, Heyward sitting them beside and Mr. Carrera. Pope has told his dad the day before that he was going to go to JJ’s hearing and just sit outside, in case they released JJ on the spot. Heyward had done a double take and then immediately picked up the phone. Pope had thought his dad was ignoring him and was annoyed until five minutes later he popped his head in Pope’s doorway and told him he got his work shift covered and he would come too.

Mr. C and Heyward talked about fishing quietly, blissfully unaware that Pope and Kie had broken up the night before. It had been a loving breakup—if you can call a breakup loving. Kie had agreed it would be for the best. She said she never wanted to lose their friendship and Pope had been eternally grateful for how amazing of a person his best friend was. He reached out for her hand about halfway through the hearing as he started to get lost in his worries. She gave it a squeeze.

The doors open and Mr. and Mrs. Thornton spilled out first. They were both standing too straight and it made Pope uncomfortable but they walked out with their lawyer and then JJ’s lawyer made his way through the doorway. Then Luke. Then JJ.

Pope felt like he had just lost one hundred pounds.

“You’re out!” Kie cried excitedly. JJ flashes her a big smile and this time it looked genuine. Luke said something to the lawyer and then reached out for JJ’s arm. The flinch was tiny, but Pope noticed it.

“JJ, it’s good to see you,” Heyward started, but Luke gave him a wild look and then tugged JJ.

“You can talk to your friends later. We need to have a chat.”

Mr. Carrera took a step in front of them to block the path to the exit.

“Our kids have been waiting here for two hours and would appreciate a moment to say hello.”

Kie’s dad had balls. Luke didn’t seem to care.

“I’d appreciate it if you took a step back.”

His words were vicious and JJ started down at his feet. JJ’s entire body was tense and he was biting down on his lip and Pope had never in his life seen JJ looked so scared. Pope’s chest hurt and he squeezed Kie’s hand.

“Take a step back. And don’t you talk to me about my boy again.” He turned to JJ. “Outside, now.”

Mr. C took a step to the side and Luke pulled JJ out of the courthouse.

“You know,” the lawyer said quietly to Mr. C—but Pope was good at eavesdropping and listened. “I know a good Children and Youth Services lawyer. If that’s necessary.”

Pope’s blood boiled when Mr. C just nodded and shrugged. What can ya do? There was a lot they could fucking do. Heyward lead Pope and Kiara out of the courthouse while Mr. Carrera talked a little bit more to the lawyer.

At least JJ wasn’t in juvie anymore.

“Have either of you ever met JJ’s dad?” Heyward asked as they walked outside. Kie shook her head but Pope nodded. “When?”

“About a week ago.”

“I don’t want you ever going near that man again, got it?”

Pope got it. Kie nodded too, even though Heyward had no control of her here.

“If you ever JJ say something that sounds off about it, I want you to let me know.”

It was too late for that, and Pope wasn’t sure if he even could tell his dad what he knew about Luke. What he figured was about to happen. It made him feel sick. But he agreed and so did Kiara.

“What an ass,” came Mr. Carrera’s voice as he approached the three. “Excuse my language, honey.”

Kie looked over to Pope as if to silently ask what they could do to help JJ. Pope shrugged.

“We drive all this way, provide him with a lawyer that actually gets his kid out of juvie, and he can’t even let the kids say hello?”

Heyward was mad, but Mr. Carrera seemed genuinely shocked. He must not have heard the rumors about Luke Maybank before.

———————————————————————

“How did the hearing go, baby?” Pope’s mom asks when they arrive home.

“He’s out of juvie.”

“Isn’t that wonderful. Maybe we can have him over for dinner one night this week to celebrate.” It’s the first time either one of his parents have ever asked Pope to invite JJ to their house. Heyward sighs behind Pope as he places the key ring on a hook and comes into the kitchen to start up the electric kettle.

“Pope why don’t you go and lay your suit across my bed. I can put it away for you,” his mom instructs. He knows that they just want him to leave the room so they can talk about JJ and his father. Pope wants to leave before they start asking him questions he’s not allowed to answer, so he grabs a cheese-stick from the fridge and makes his way to his bedroom.

He has two unread messages from Kie but he’s not really in the mood to answer them. He changes his clothes and places the suit on the bed like he was told. He opens up his phone and sends a text to JJ, asking him how he’s doing and when they can hang out. He doesn’t expect a response back tonight, but he hopes that he’ll get one anyway. He’s used to talking to JJ every day.

Pope waits until his mom calls him back into the kitchen for dinner. They don’t talk much about the hearing or JJ or JJ’s father during dinner. Pope finishes quickly, thanks them, cleans his dishes, and heads to bed. He’s wiped out from the day and he has to get up early to tutor a freshman in geometry the next morning, so he’s ready to get in bed and go to sleep by ten.

He comes very close to falling asleep when he hears a clinking sound. Then another. And another. It’s coming from his window. Kiara can’t throw for shit, so his mind goes straight to JJ and he’s rushing over to the window to pull the blinds up. Sure enough, JJ is standing in his backyard, throwing pebbles at Pope’s first floor bedroom window.

“Be careful, you could break a window,” Pope says as he slides the window up high enough for JJ to crawl through.

JJ’s not crying and he’s not covered in blood, which Pope takes as a good sign. As he stumbles to his feet, Pope sees the bruises peaking below the hem of his shirt. JJ tugs it down into place.

“Are you okay?” Pope asks because what else is there to say.

“Fine. I just couldn’t stay in that house any longer.”

JJ’s words are practiced and Pope knows they’re a façade, but Pope also knows this is not the time for an argument.

“Are you gonna stay for the night?”

“If that’s cool?”

“It’s good, I just need to go get the air mattress.”

“No!” JJ cries and reaches his hand out as if to pull Pope back. “I don’t want to wake your parents.”

“They’re asleep, they won’t hear.”

“Please, Pope.”

Pope isn’t sure if he has ever heard JJ say please in his life so he respects his wishes. Pope has a twin bed, so he’ll just sleep on the floor and let JJ take the bed.

“Do you want to shower or have something to eat?” Pope asks, trying not to sound too gentle because he doesn’t want to embarrass JJ. JJ’s eyes fall and he shrugs. Pope takes it as a yes.

“I’ll get you some food, the bathroom is just down the hall. Don’t turn the handle too far left or the water will burn you.”

JJ doesn’t say anything but Pope hands him a clean towel and heads into the kitchen to heat up some of the leftover mac and cheese. Pope wonders how much JJ ate in juvie. How much JJ eats at home.

He can hear his parents faintly arguing in their bedroom from the kitchen and tries to block it out but he hears JJ’s name and instantly panics.

“You think DCS doesn’t know about his father? Do you know how many times I dropped Pope off to elementary school and that little boy was bruised or bleeding? We have nothing to report that they don’t already know.”

“You should’ve heard the way he spoke today. The way he scared that kid.”

“I believe you, baby.”

“We have to do something.”

“We’ll have the boy over for dinner. As many dinners as he wants.”

It wasn’t really a fight, just louder than usual. The microwave buzzed and Pope removed the plate and fished a spoon out of the drawer for JJ. He took them back into his room even though he technically wasn’t allowed to have food in his room. And technically he wasn’t—JJ was. There was no rule that JJ couldn’t eat in his room.

And after the conversation he had overheard, Pope didn’t think his parents would actually be upset if they found out.

JJ walked back into the bedroom shortly after Pope. He was wearing the same clothes from earlier but his hair was wet so Pope figured he must’ve showered. Pope ushered to the mac and cheese sitting on his desk and JJ took a seat.

“It’s not as good in the microwave, but it would’ve taken forever to turn on the oven.”

“It’s perfect,” JJ hummed, shoving heaping spoonfuls of pasta into his mouth until he started to cough. Pope, unthinkingly, reached out to put a hand on JJ’s back and it caused JJ to jump out of his seat and he fell on his butt beside the desk. Wide-eyed and quick-breathed, JJ scooted further against the wall until it hit his back.

Pope took a step back and held his hand to his chest.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think.”

“I’m fine you just uh startled me,” JJ said, trying to sound nonchalant but his voice cracked and his eyes were still big.

“JJ.”

JJ swallowed and Pope noticed the spit up pieces of mac and cheese on the carpet. They would probably stain. JJ’s eyes had gone wet and Pope hesitantly stood before him. He held his hands up so JJ could see where they were. That they weren’t reaching out to hurt him. With his eyes locked onto JJ’s, he reached out a hand to help JJ up.

“I’m sorry,” JJ whispered, taking Pope’s outstretched hand and helping tug himself up. JJ looked to the floor where the mac and cheese had sprinkled. “Shit.”

“Don’t worry about that. Just eat slowly, okay? We have more if you’re still hungry.”

JJ nods and takes a seat in Pope’s desk chair, taking a significantly smaller bite of mac and cheese. If it wasn’t so hearting breaking it might be funny how the moment he begins chewing a tear falls down his cheek. But it is heart breaking and Pope doesn’t know what to do because he’s not good with words and he can’t touch JJ. He sits at the edge of his bed so they’re close, but he doesn’t touch. JJ doesn’t wipe his tears away, and he eats slowly just like Pope suggested.

He finishes what’s left on the plate and tries to steady his breathing but his chest is rising and falling rapidly and Pope notices the way JJ is fiddled his thumbs around the hem of his shirt.

“You take the bed,” Pope says, standing up and taking a few steps back so that he’s not in JJ’s space.

“That’s stupid,” JJ whispers.

“It’s not stupid at all.”

JJ looks up at him and Pope realizes he hasn’t actually stopped crying yet. Pope motions his arm toward the bed even though he wants to reach out and pull JJ into a hug. But he can’t. JJ stands and climbs into the bed. He lays above the covers so Pope grabs a fuzzy blanket from the upper shelf of his closet and sets it at the foot of the bed.

“If you need it,” he says. JJ pats the space beside him softly and Pope freezes.

“Please?”

His voice is barely there and there are still tears running down his cheeks and Pope is in absolutely no position to say no to JJ right now.

Pope slides into the bed, laying down on his side and sticking his hands under his head so that they’re face to face. JJ blinks, tears fall, and he reaches his hand out to the middle of the space between them with his palm facing up. Pope isn’t sure if it’s what JJ wants, but he pulls his hand out from under his head and places it on top of JJ’s. JJ grips his hand instantly and Pope feels relief wash over him.

“Are you okay?” Pope asks again, wondering if maybe in the dark JJ will have a different answer than he had before.

“No.”

“Can I hold you?”

Pope is surprised he even asked the question and wants to take it back the moment he opens his mouth. It sounds so stupid and JJ gives him a confused look and Pope feels like an idiot.

But then JJ mumbles, “Yeah,” and Pope doesn’t feel like an idiot anymore.

He reaches his free hand out above them and JJ burrows into the space between Pope’s chest and his arms and Pope wraps his arm down across JJ’s back. JJ’s tears are wet against his shirt and they seep through his skin. It’s sticky.

“I’m so glad you’re home,” Pope says, wanting to see JJ smile. JJ doesn’t smile though, only chokes on his breath. “JJ?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he whispers. It’s hard to hear him before JJ is speaking into Pope’s chest but he manages to decipher the message. “I never mean to do it.”

“It’s not your fault.” JJ doesn’t seem to hear and continues mumbling into Pope’s shirt.

“I didn’t mean to do forget the hearing or spend all the restitution money. I didn’t mean to.”

Pope’s heart is crumbling like rubble to ash and he can’t seem to hold JJ any tighter so he uses one of his hands to run circles around his back because it always calms Pope when his mother does it to him.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I didn’t mean to get John B killed or break up you and Kie.”

“You didn’t get JB killed, man,” Pope says, even though it feels weird to call JJ man when he’s holding him so gently. “And Kie and I didn’t break up because of you.”

JJ shakes his head and continues rambling as his cries begin manifesting into sobs.

“I didn’t mean to make Mom leave.”

Pope thinks JJ might be too far gone to realize what he’s saying at this point.

“I know,” Pope says, running his hand through JJ’s hair and then brings it to his back again to run his fingertips around. “It’s alright.”

JJ shakes his head again but he’s finished talking—unable to get anything else now that he is sobbing. His fingers are twisting Pope’s shirt and he can feel his nails lightly throw the fabric across his chest. It doesn’t hurt, but it reminds Pope that JJ isn’t just sad but angry too. That JJ isn’t just soft but has sharp edges and steep slopes.

“It’s alright,” Pope says again, brushing through JJ’s hair and across the skin of his arms as he tries to sooth him. JJ clings to him.

The sobs eventually die down and JJ’s hand loses its grip on Pope’s shirt. Pope can hear snores escaping his lungs and feels relieved that he’s fallen asleep. Pope holds him just as tight, taking the blanket from the end of the bed and uses his foot to pull it closer. He wraps it around them both—giving the vast majority of the blanket to JJ. He brushes the hair out of JJ’s eyes and tries to keep his fingers as far from the purple and blue skin as he can.

In his sleep, JJ curls closer to Pope.

Since JJ is asleep and Pope wants to scream but cannot, he chooses instead to press a kiss to JJ’s forehead. It’s all he can think to do. It’s not enough.

———————————————————————

tagging: @kikifromtheblock (if anybody would like to be added to a mayward taglist, feel free to lmk!)

#obx #mayward #jjpope #my writing #so much angst in this one #in almost everything i write #dear fluff writers: how do you do it??

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ahtohallan-calling · 4 years

Text

chapter 11 of don’t read the last page is here!

[kristanna / m / multichap / modern au with actress!anna and vetstudent!kristoff]

“What would I do without you, Kris?”

“Have to pay for a professional driver, I guess.”

“Way to ruin the sweet moment,” she’d murmured, but by the way she had nestled closer to his chest, he’d known he hadn’t really.

chapter 11: transitions

Some people, he presumed, would find it sexy, all the sneaking around and clandestine meet-ups and whispered phone calls. It was all very exciting in a way, standing around in parking lots and waiting for an SUV with newly-tinted windows to roll up and collect him, but he was already missing the ease of just running down to meet her in the parking lot and sweeping her up into an embrace before she’d had a chance to say hello.

There were no parking lot kisses for them anymore, especially not at his apartment complex, not after last weekend’s news article announcing newcomer Anna Arendelle had been cast in the title role of the live-action remake of Anastasia, alongside-- what was that guy’s name? Henry, or Hank or something; no, it sounded vaguely European...well, whatever it was, in Kristoff’s opinion, he wore far too much hair gel. And he was apparently very famous, and it was a huge deal for the movie and Anna’s career that they were playing opposite each other, and that meant the paparazzi were going overboard trying to get photos of her. As if it hadn’t already been bad enough that she was the biggest breakout star of the year, according to all the clickbait websites; the whole world loved Anna Arendelle now, was going absolutely crazy over her and her “down-to-earth presence” and “hilarious Twitter feed” and “all those gorgeous freckles” that were apparently starting a new skincare craze.

Perhaps the only person more exhausted by it all than him was Anna herself. “It’s not that I’m, like, ungrateful,” she had explained to him one night last week after an interview as they had huddled in the backseat of her car, parked behind a KFC that was undergoing renovations while they waited to make sure the coast was clear before driving to her apartment. “I mean, the fans are great, and I’m glad I like, make them happy and stuff. But Jesus, I just want to be just me again for a little while. I can’t even walk around in your fucking t-shirts anymore without people speculating which thrift shop I got them from and tweeting me a million times about it.”

She had been in the middle of changing into one of those t-shirts as she spoke, and it was jarring, almost, to see the contrast between the faded cotton and the thick layer of makeup she was still wearing. It looked beautiful under the stage lights, but now up close it just felt like one more barrier keeping him from her.

And then she had seen the sadness in his eyes and clambered into his lap and thrown her arms around him, and it was like nothing had changed at all. “Well, I love you,” he had reassured her with a kiss on her forehead. “Just-you you, and famous actress you, and Twitter you, and any other kind of you there is.”

She’d pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “What would I do without you, Kris?”

“Have to pay for a professional driver, I guess.”

“Way to ruin the sweet moment,” she’d murmured, but by the way she had nestled closer to his chest, he’d known he hadn’t really.

But now she was knee-deep in rehearsals and costume fittings, and he was gearing up for the end of his final semester before clinicals and still working at least three days a week, and since she refused to spend the night at his place for fear someone would find him and stalk him, he hadn’t seen her since that single hour they’d spent together in the car nearly a week ago.

The first night after everything had blown up, when she’d been planning on staying the night and instead had called him in tears, she had apologized over and over. “I had no idea it would be like this, Kris, I know I promised to come but I just keep running into people everywhere who recognize me now, and I can’t do that to you, I just can’t--”

He’d let her go on for a while, knowing she needed to get it out of her system, but when she’d finally paused to draw in a ragged breath, he had said as calmly as possible, “Anna. I don’t love you any less because of this. We’re in this together, okay?”

“Okay, okay, I’m just really s--”

“Don’t, baby, please, okay? Do you need me to come pick you up?”

“No, I-- I know you have class in the morning, just-- will you stay on the phone with me? God, I just-- I just really, really was looking forward to spending the night with you.”

He had been, too. And he was again now; tomorrow was Thanksgiving, and he’d had the week off from classes, but she had been so overwhelmed with rehearsals and fittings and endless interviews for the past month that even if she hadn’t been dodging paparazzi, there would have hardly been any time to see each other. But they were going to spend the next three days at his parents’ house, three whole days where only his younger siblings’ giggles would keep him from holding her.

“And Saturday and Sunday,” Anna had said over the phone when he told her his parents had invited her to come along. “Elsa and Honey are going to the mountains for the weekend, so we’ll have my whole apartment to ourselves and no weird ‘my older sister is in the next room’ vibes. If you want to come over, I mean.”

Of course he did, and he had told her in no uncertain terms exactly what he would spend the weekend doing, until he could practically hear her blushing as she said, “Jesus, Kristoff, give me one good reason not to come pick you up so we can hole up in a hotel for the next twenty-four hours straight.”

At the time, he’d had a reason, but a week later he was wondering what the hell it had been. He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to think of roasted turkeys and watching football with his dad instead of Anna’s hands running all over him and her lips against his skin and her hair spilling out over his pillow-- and then he sighted her car finally pulling up to pick him up from the deserted parking lot behind the biology lab on the far end of his campus, and he could think about her all he wanted because finally she was here.

Apparently even the time it would take for him to walk over to the car from where he’d been standing under an awning was too long; the moment the lights switched off, Anna jumped out and ran over to him, her arms already extended. She jumped into his arms with the same desperation she had had when he had dropped her off at the airport all those months ago, tangling her fingers in his hair and kissing him like it had been six years and not six days.

“I missed you,” she managed to say between kisses. “Fuck, longest week of my life, Kris.”

He pulled back enough to get a good luck at her, worry pooling in his chest when he saw the dark circles under her eyes. “Well, we’ve got five days together now, yeah? You’ll have to tell me all about it.”

She leaned her forehead against his, drawing a deep breath as their eyes met. “We gotta find something better than just sneaking around and seeing each other for an hour every couple days.”

“I know,” he said softly. “I’ve kind of gotten used to having you around.”

“Gee, thanks,” she teased, kissing the bridge of his nose.

He wanted to keep holding her like this, wanted to pull her in for another kiss and feel her sigh against him and whisper that he loved her until he went hoarse. Instead he set her down and affectionately nudged his elbow against her arm. “You know what I mean. I keep rolling over in the night and reaching for you or like, expecting to come home and find you fighting with Sven about Call of Duty.”

Anna laughed as they walked towards her car hand-in-hand. “That started out really romantic and then just reminded me that I really owe him an ass-kicking. I-- wait, actually…”

He paused by the back of the car, raising an eyebrow. Anna blushed as she met his gaze. “Um. Can you drive?” she asked hesitantly. “Um. Don’t laugh, but, like...fuck. Okay. This is dumb--”

“Anna. Just say it.”

“I just...miss how like, how when you drive you put your hand on my knee because like. I don’t know.”

He went without further comment to the other side of the car, a smile playing at the corner of his lips as he moved the seat back. When there was finally enough room for his legs, he climbed in; Anna was setting something wrapped in foil in her lap, smoothing down the edges where she’d just taken a quick peek at it.

“What’s that?” Kristoff asked as he turned the keys.

“I, um. I made a pie. From scratch, seriously, Elsa nearly killed me when she saw all the flour on the counter, but I didn’t want to just show up empty-handed or with just a can of cranberry sauce or something, and I know your sisters like chocolate so I figured fudge pie would be good and keep in the fridge tonight until--”

He leaned over and kissed her until he felt her relax. “Thank you for doing that,” he said, brushing the tip of his nose over hers. “It’ll mean a lot to my mom.”

She looked at him with so much love in her eyes then, the way that was beginning to frighten him. It wasn’t her that scared him, not at all; he would be overjoyed to spend the rest of his life with her looking at him that way. But he had this absurd idea in the back of his mind that if she kept showering that much love on him all at once, she would run out of it quicker and then...well. She was still Anna, so she wouldn’t just completely cast him aside, but a gentle letdown seemed more and more likely every day as her star shone a little brighter each passing hour, and still she poured so much time and affection onto him of all people. He wished she would slow down, pace herself; he’d take a few less “I love yous” if it meant dragging out the inevitable a little longer.

He didn’t dare breathe a word of how he felt to Anna. He knew it would devastate her to hear it. It wasn’t that he doubted her; she loved him well and so completely he wondered sometimes how he had lived before it. And of course he loved her too, more than anything, and yes, like he reassured her over and over again when she began to worry about all the new Annas she was expected to be, she was still her, which meant she was his favorite person in the world, but that was the problem: she had always been her, always destined for bright and beautiful things, and he had always been him, and sometimes just loving someone wasn’t enough.

“Kris?”

He blinked; he had been so focused on his thoughts and getting started on the drive that he hadn’t heard her. He reached over and squeezed her knee. “Sorry, baby, what is it?”

“Can we make a detour? I’ll, uh-- it’s hard to find with GPS, I mean, so I’ll tell you the way. And it’ll be fast, I promise.”

He shot her a quick glance before turning onto the interstate. Why did she look so nervous all of a sudden? “Sure, no problem.”

They stayed on the interstate for a while, until they were nearly to Santa Clarita, and then she set her hand over his where it rested on her knee and squeezed. “Take this exit,” she said, and he did so silently, not understanding what she was doing and not trusting himself to say the right thing.

She directed him down a series of roads until they were just past the outskirts of town, and then she pointed towards a gravel lined path he nearly missed. “Sorry,” she said when he swerved to make the turn, “it’s, uh, like I said, hard to find. Which is, um. What I was looking for.”

He opened his mouth, a question finally forming, but then they passed through a line of trees into a cleared glade, and the words died in his throat.

It was a little house with blue shutters and a small porch; only one story, but with plenty of wide windows to let in the light, and there was a “For Sale” sign out front. After several long moments, he turned to Anna, and saw a little smile curling at the corners of her mouth.

“It’s-- it’s not that expensive, really,” she said, her voice wobbling a little, “I mean, I can’t buy it outright, but since they’re paying me week by week during rehearsals I can do the down payment and mortgage easy, and it’s out of the way so no one would find it, and-- and Elsa came and looked at it for me a few days ago and sent me pictures of the inside and it’s really nice, and I know-- I know…”

She trailed off and took a deep breath. “Um. I mean. I looked at other houses, but I kind of liked this one the most because...well. It’s out of the way, like I said, but since it’s north of town it’s only like thirty minutes from where you said your clinicals would be, and like-- I’m not saying that to, you know, make you feel obligated or anything, but just-- well, I mean, I really love you. And you just...I don’t know, I kind of thought maybe you would want it too, and it would make a lot of stuff easier on us, and if you say no I totally get it but, um-- do you think maybe you’d want to live here with me?”

Yes, he wanted to say, yes, my god, you don’t even have to ask, give me the chance to fall asleep with you in my arms and wake up to find you still there, let me make you breakfast every Saturday and let me start a garden out front full of only sunflowers and let this be our home for as long as it can.

Instead he swallowed hard and asked, “Are you sure about this, Anna? I...don’t know if this is a good idea.”

He had never seen her face fall so fast.

#sorry bout the ending ill try to update again faster this time #drtlp #my fics

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an-unknown-writers-world · 4 years

Text

Unexpected

Day Twenty-Three: Stockings Over the Fireplace

Part of @panicfob 25 Days of Christmas Challenge

Warnings: Angst?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (First Person, nameless)

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Morgan Stark, Mentions of Bruce Banner

Word Count: 1629

A/N: This is part one of two – Day 23 and 24 both taking places on Christmas eve. If you’ve miss anything so far, the beginning of this series can be found here – Masterlist. As always, thank you for reading.

-------------------------------------------------------

“Are you ready?” Pepper asked Morgan, a smile stretched wide as she looked at her daughter.

“Yeah,” Morgan nodded.

Bucky and I sat on a love seat across from the couch Pepper found herself on. Sam leaning against the couch opposite us, watching Morgan. It wasn’t to often that we gathered at Pepper’s, usually, we hosted at the compound; but Pepper thought it would be important to hang stockings where Morgan would be waking up. After all, this was her first Christmas without her father.

“When did you get a mantle?” Sam asked noticing the new construction over the gas fireplace.

“Yesterday,” Pepper laughed. “Can’t really have her hang stockings over the fireplace if there’s no mantle.”

“Fair,” Sam agreed.

“Why are there so many extra stockings?” Bucky asked.

“I thought it was just going to be the four of us,” I added.

“It will be,” Pepper pulled three of them out of the stack. “These are from last year,” She handed them to Bucky. “I’m having her hang them, so we don’t forget who we're missing.”

The three stockings Bucky held were for Natasha, Steve and Tony. Last year we had celebrated Christmas as family, a broken one with missing pieces. But we had stockings for Sam and Bucky while they were gone, so it made sense to keep the tradition. I felt tears start to well up at the emotions of it all. Sam and Bucky exchanged a glance that I couldn’t quite figure out what it meant; I laid my head on Bucky’s shoulder and interlaced our fingers.

“This one first, baby.” Pepper handed Morgan’s stocking to her. “Right in the middle.”

Morgan went through and hung each of our stockings, hers in the middle with mine and Bucky’s on one side, and Pepper and Sam’s on the other.

“Do you want to hang them?” Pepper asked us.

I shook my head, barely holding in my own tears back.

“Here munchkin,” Bucky said softly. “Can you hang these for us, right next to aunties and mine.” He smoothed her hair as came to take them.

A tear finally brimmed over and slid down my cheek, wetting Bucky’s shirt. It was a sad thing, but I should not be this overly emotional about it, I tried to rationalize it in my own mind in conjunction with the exhaustion I’d been combating.

“Pep, why don’t you hang this one,” Bucky said holding out Tony’s stocking.

She smiled at him halfheartedly, standing up she took it from Bucky’s grasp hanging it on the hook next to her own. A row of candles were placed along the mantle, while she was up she lit them. I could see the glossiness in her eyes from unshed tears as she turned back around to us.

“Morgan, sweetie,” Pepper said crouching down. “Will you go grab the treats you made?” She asked tugging on the little girl’s pjs.

Morgan didn’t say anything, but she ran out of the room with a smile.

“How are you feeling?” Bucky asked me softly.

I shrugged, pulling back to look at him. “Emotional,”

He smiled, “I knew that much. How’s your stomach?”

“Okay for the moment,” I replied.

“Have you been sick?” Pepper asked.

“Off and on since Thursday night.”

“Was it something you ate?” She questioned.

“No, I think I’m just overtired. It’s been a long month.” I replied

I could see Bucky shaking his head out of the corner of my eye; I rolled my eyes at him.

Pepper laughed, “You have a different opinion, Bucky?”

“People who are overtired get better after they sleep. Saturday, she slept for sixteen hours, broken up some, but she wasn’t better after that. Then slept for twelve straight hours on Sunday. Still having issues.” He stated.

“Glad I missed most of that,” Sam muttered.

“But I don’t feel sick.” I pointed out. “I’m tired, which is making me over-emotional,”

“Grumpy,” Sam mumbled.

I rolled my eyes at him, “And I’m sure that’s what’s making me nauseous.”

Pepper's eyes opened wide and she started to speak before Morgan ran in the room with goodies. She came back with three beautiful packages of homemade candies and cookies, handing one to each of us.

“Momma said we aren't giving presents, so I make these.” She said standing in front of me.

“Awe, I love them.” I gushed setting the package down next to me.

Scooping her up into my lap, I kissed the top of her head. Pepper asked Sam a few questions about Maria and where she would be spending the holiday. They chatted about his recent experiences with his situation. Bucky chiming in once in a while. I heard bits and pieces of it, but primarily just sat with Morgan trying to enjoy the moment.

“I’ll be right back,” I said sliding Morgan on to the couch.

Scurrying from the room I beelined straight to the bathroom. I was really over being sick. This was not how I wanted to spend my Christmas eve. I had just finished washing my hands and rinsing my face with cold water when there was a soft knock on the door.

“Buck, I’m fine, promise,” I called out.

“It’s me,” Pepper said softly.

I opened the door and frowned at her. “You’re not going to start fussing over me too, are you?”

She smiled, pushing her way into the bathroom. “You say that like us caring is a bad thing.” She closed the door behind her. “I’m going to be really nosey, sorry not sorry.” She said rummaging through the cupboards.

“Nosey about what?” I pulled myself up on the counter.

“When was your last period?” She asked stopping to look up at me.

I looked at her confused. “Right around Thanksgiving.”

“Are you clockwork regular?”

“Far from it.”

“Found it,” She called out.

“Found what?” I asked. “Pepper, you’re confusing me.”

She stood up in front of me. “I know I’ve only been through it once, but I feel like this is one of those things that, once you’ve been through it, you just know.” She explained.

I looked at her still confused.

“I think you’re pregnant.” She stated.

“You think I’m what?” I asked completely shocked.

“You have a lot of early symptoms and timing-wise it makes sense.” She handed me a box.

I looked down at it with a hundred things running through my head. “I can’t take this,” I stated.

Pepper rested her hand on my thigh, “It’s okay to be scared. I know the last time I said anything, you and Bucky were at odds about it.”

“You mean him actively dodging the question and will do anything to avoid talking about it,” I replied.

She grimaced. “You can take it here if that’d make it easier.”

I let out a heavy sigh. “Aren’t you supposed to take them first thing in the morning?” I asked.

“You can, they say that’s when the hormone is the most potent, but you can really take it anytime.”

“Can you let Bucky know that I’m okay? I don't want him to come looking for me. But, I think I’d rather know now.”

She nodded “Make sure you set a timer when you’re done.” She turned to open the door.

“Hey, Pep,” I called out.

She turned back to look at me.

“Thank you.”

She smiled at me, stepping out of the door.

It was the longest three minutes of my life.

A million things ran through my head, I don’t know biologically how any of that worked for Bucky. I doubt Hydra ever did any fertility tests on him, that’s for sure. The serums were different, but I wondered if Steve and Banner had ever done any testing, or even talked about it.

I text Pepper and asked her to come to the bathroom. I couldn’t look at the test alone and I wasn’t ready to tell Bucky.

She opened the door, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about it.” She grimaced.

“It’s okay, I thought I could do it alone.” I smiled at her halfheartedly. “I think regardless of what this test says, I think I want Bruce to do some blood work.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” She agreed. “I’ll text him. I have a lab set for a blood draw for him already.”

I laughed, “Only one?”

“Well, no. A few actually, I couldn’t get rid of them after Tony.”

The timer on my phone buzzed.

“I can’t look at it,” I confessed.

“Are you sure you want me to?” She asked.

I nodded, words failing me.

Taking ahold of my hand, she looked at the test. Her expression was unreadable. I tried to find humor in it, I could only imagine the poker face that was required to live with Tony. My heart pounded so hard I felt like I could hear it in my ears.

“I don’t have the right words, sweetheart.” She turned to me with a smile. “I think Bruce should do the blood work to confirm since it’s not solid. But you have two lines.”

“Two lines good, or two lines bad?” I asked. “I’ve never taken one of these in my life. What do two lines mean?”

She smiled, “Morgan will make a great big cousin.”

“I’m….” I stammered, “I’m…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

She nodded, “Yes.”

It suddenly felt impossible to breathe, my palms started to clam up and my neck felt hot. I tried to catch my breath, but I felt like I was taking in water rather than air, my ears started to ring. The room started to spin, I could hear Pepper call out my name, but it sounded like she was in another room. Next thing I knew I was on the ground having fainted.

-----------------------------

Part 2: Expecting

#panic's 25 days of christmas #25 days of christmas #A Very Marvel Christmas #Bucky Barnes X Reader #Bucky Barnes One Shot #bucky barnes imagine #Sam WIlson #Pepper Potts #Morgan Stark #Bruce Banner #Falcon and The Winter Soldier #An Unknown Writers World writes #An Unknown Writers World

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lost-in-time-marie · 4 years

Text

Into the Shadows: Chapter Three

“Okay, so what’s going on with you and James?” Natasha asked, eyeing his slim, muscular frame from our table in the middle of the mall food court.

“What do you mean?” I replied, dumbfounded, taking a bite of my extremely messy, extremely delicious burger.

“You guys have been inseparable since he got here weeks ago,” Natasha clarified leaning close, intrigued. I laughed. Natasha sat across from me at a plastic food court table, picking at fries. Loud voices echoed around the tall room, restaurants surrounded us, and people weaved around one another trying to reach their destinations. The mall was busy on Saturday afternoons, full of teenagers free of school for the weekend.

“I don’t know, I guess I understand what it’s like to be the new kid in school, having moved like six thousand times myself. I didn’t want to leave him scrambling all by himself to fit in and find friends,” I replied with a shrug, stealing a fry off Natasha’s plate.

Natasha snorted, smacking my hand away, “With a face like that he wouldn’t have had any trouble finding friends.”

“I wanted him to have real friends; it’s my instinct to help. Besides, I was a little intrigued too,” I smiled. Natasha rolled her eyes.

“More like you thought he was hot,” Natasha muttered around a mouth full of fries.

“Speaking of thinking people who are hot, what’s going on with you and Aleks over there?” I asked, raising a brow, and jerking my thumb behind me. Natasha’s dark eyes flitted over my shoulder and rested on the tall, thick body of Aleks standing in line for food beside James.

Natasha looked thoughtful, then replied “James is very friendly and has a great sense of humor. He’s smart and can keep up with us easily. I hear good things about him through the information grapevine; very popular, well-liked by everyone. He’s just…very private. I know I’ve only known him for a few weeks now, but I still know almost nothing about him, not even his favorite food or color,” Natasha observed, entirely avoiding my comment about Aleks. I nodded, carefully mulling over her opinion, before drawing her back to Aleks.

“Nice evasion, but I invented that tactic,” I grinned.

Natasha rolled her eyes, “There is nothing going on between Aleks and I. It’d just be weird,” she hedged, not meeting my gaze.

“Yeah, and I can breathe underwater,” I retorted sarcastically, giving her a disbelieving look.

“Okay, okay,” Natasha laughed, trying to keep down her fries, “I find him kind of, a little, extremely attractive. It’s no big deal. I just stalk him from afar and imagine a relationship with him.”

“You are so hopeless,” I managed to utter between our uncontrollable laughter.

“Hey guys, what’s so funny?” Aleks asked, walking up to the table with a tray in his hands and taking a seat beside Natasha, who looked quite pleased. James followed closely behind, taking a seat beside me. Everyone chatted happily and ate their lunches. Natasha and Aleks, after a while, got pulled into their own private debate, as they were accustomed to doing, so I entertained myself by interrogating James.

“So what school did you go to before the fabulous Jefferson High?” I teased.

“It’s a little ways South of here, you wouldn’t know it,” James half-answered, his charming smile spreading across his face. I loved that smile, it made my head swim a little, the way it made the corners of his dark eyes crinkle and seemed to radiate warmth and happiness.

“Believe it or not, James, but that was not an actual answer to my question,” I persisted, no way he was getting off that easy. Maybe his head-swimming smile made the other girls forget he hadn’t really answered a single question since he arrived at our school, but no way I was so easily fooled.

He chuckled, “Alright, you caught me, I was homeschooled before Jefferson High.”

“A real answer, at last!” I joked, nudging his shoulder. He smiled again, staring down at me with those intense dark eyes. The lashes surrounding them were thick and black, enough to make any girl a little jealous. Perfect ringlets of dark brown hair fell into his eyes and I resisted the urge to brush them away.

“So what do you want for your birthday tomorrow?” Natasha asked, pulling me back to reality.

“Oh,” I thought turning to look at her, “You really don’t have to get me anything,” I said, having completely forgotten it was even tomorrow.

“Not that garbage again,” Natasha complained loudly.

“I don’t know, I really don’t need anything,” I shrugged.

“What do you want then?” Natasha stressed. An image of a masked figure warning me to stay away from dark streets flitted through my mind without my permission. I attempted to violently clamp down on those thoughts. I didn’t like to engage my clearly delusional thinking any more than I had to. I wasn’t entirely sure I wasn’t losing my mind or imaging the figure altogether, but it was too late, and my imagination took off without needing any prodding. I hadn’t seen the figure in almost a month, since the last incident. I obediently heeded the warning and didn’t go out at night. Better not test my chances three times. I wanted to see him or it or whatever it was again, I needed to know what was going on.

“I don’t want anything either, just spending time with you guys is fun,” I smiled. “Although, I do need to go to this one store before we leave, I’ll be right back,” I announced, getting up from the table, eager to remove myself from the topic of conversation.

“I’ll go with you,” James offered, standing up.

“You really don’t need to come with me,” I replied, “I’ll just be a minute.”

“I insist,” James said, flashing me his most charming smile, “Besides, I don’t think they’ll really miss my company.” He nodded his head in the direction of Aleks and Natasha, already pulled back to each other’s gravity, leaning closer to each other with every passing minute. I laughed and rolled my eyes, before looping my arm through his and strolling through the mall. I looked down to hide my smile and slight blush.

“What do you need at this store anyways?” James asked as we wandered through the mall.

“Somehow, Natasha convinced me going to a club in the city for my birthday would be a good idea, so now I need an outfit,” I answered, thinly veiling my slight distress. I recalled the months of begging it had taken her to convince me to go. Partying had never really been my thing, and as much as I wanted to do something fun and different for my seventeenth birthday, a club was not the first thing that came to mind. Not to mention the fact her plan involved lying to my mom and telling her I was having a sleepover at Natasha’s, another thing I was also not fond of.

James simply raised a brow before shaking his head and chuckling, surely imagining the scene.

“Exactly,” I said, laughing with him.

“And what does one wear to such out of character, unplanned nights?” James asked.

“God only knows, Natasha will probably complain no matter what I get, honestly,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

It took another three circles around the huge mall before I finally settled on a silver sparkly tank top and black skinny jeans. James assumed the role any male plays when uncomfortably watching a girl shop, getting distracted by non-clothing related items and awkwardly standing around while I browsed. He was patient though, and cracked jokes about the various people and stores as we walked. When we reached the register to pay for the new clothes, he quickly pulled out his wallet and paid for it all before I could even react.

“Why did you do that? I could have paid for that myself,” I complained once we exited the store into the dimly lit mall hallways.

“Oh, don’t freak out, it was no trouble,” He smiled charmingly, his brown eyes softening, practically melting. I poorly attempted to force my head to stop swimming under his gaze.

“But-” I started, still slightly dazed.

“Happy birthday,” He whispered, interrupting, before handing me the bag and placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

I jiggled my knee anxiously as I sat in the soft leather seat of Natasha’s car, the leather from my tall black boots made an irritating scratching noise against the seat.

“Would you calm down?” Natasha sighed, peeling her eyes off the road momentarily to give me an annoyed glance. Natasha’s hair hung pin straight tonight, occasionally drifting into her line of vision before she expertly twisted it in place behind her ears. Her blue jeans, black high tops, and green tank top wouldn’t exactly fit in with the typical club crowd, but she didn’t care.

“Well, Miss Lip-Piercings-And-Wrist-Tattoo, I’m not used to being bad and lying. What if something happens?” I worried, biting my lip and staring out the window as we crawled along the highway into the city. I shifted uncomfortably in my own sparkly, silver tank top and black skinny jeans tucked into my favorite tall leather boots; a very different outfit choice compared to my usual t-shirt, jeans, and converse. Everywhere we went, I felt like everyone stared, a sensation I was not used to, nor did I grow to appreciate.

Her hand flew to the two piercings in her lower lip defensively, before she rolled her eyes and retorted, “Now you sound like your mother, and nothing will happen, for the ten millionth time! Don’t be such a goody-goody.” Despite Natasha and I’s long standing relationship, my mother never approved of her “bad influence”, and by that she always meant her wrist tattoo and multiple facial piercings. In reality, my mother was extremely uptight and overprotective, Natasha helped loosen me up, and although I thanked her later, breaking the rules always twisted my stomach a little. Quite an unlikely pair we made, but I wouldn’t survive without my best friend.

I sighed, mentally calming myself. “You’re right, tonight I am officially seventeen. We’re going to be two carefree teenagers having an excellent time,” I said, mostly for my own benefit.

“Exactly,” Natasha concurred.

It wasn’t long before Natasha’s sleek, white car, pulled smoothly into the dim parking garage next to the club. After searching for a spot, we continued down to the club and got in line, all the while chatting idly about school, boys, and my birthday. The line was short; it didn’t take long to get in the club. In under an hour we were surrounded by sweaty, grinding bodies, dizzying strobe lights, enough fake smoke to make you gag, and pounding music so loud I couldn’t hear myself think. Exactly what we came here for.

We quickly joined the throng and swayed to the music. Somehow, I always looked much less graceful and beautiful compared to Natasha and the other dancers, but tonight I didn’t care. I came here to not think or judge or be anything but one synchronized member of this dancing pack.

“Thank you so much for taking me here!” I shouted to Natasha over the beat of the dance music. Somehow, Natasha always knew me better than myself. I didn’t realize it before I was lost in the chaos of the night, that I had needed this, an escape, a chance to just be normal. She nodded and laughed, clearly pleased the world was still in its usual order and she was right, again.

“I’m going to get a soda, you want anything?” I asked. She nodded again and together we squeezed through the pack to get to the bar at the very back of the large, open room. I ordered us two Dr. Peppers and the bartender promptly placed two cans in front of us.

“This is such a rush,” Natasha enthused, her freckled face slightly pink and shiny with exhaustion and sweat. I nodded, the only response I could form between chugging down my soda, trying to twist my brown hair off my sweaty neck, and tugging on my silver tank top to let some air reach my stomach. When I wasn’t dancing and embracing the sweet anonymity of the crowd, the claustrophobia and anxiety started to set in immediately.

“Oh my god! Kristin? Is that you?” A high-pitched voice screeched from the dance floor. I cringed inwardly. I recognized that voice all too well. Please, let it not be her, I prayed silently, but this time no one was listening to my pleas apparently. The short, thin, overly enthusiastic Kim bounced toward the bar in all her dyed brown hair, brown eyed glory. I noticed the taller, even thinner figure of Stephanie trailing behind her, with matching shades of long brown hair and brown eyes. Their skin gave a sickly appearance, a combination of off-tone concealer and the dizzying strobe lights. Last in the line was Elizabeth, the same height and build as Kim, but with blonde hair and tan skin, for a change in pace. I suppressed a groan. It wasn’t just Kim; it was the entire pack.

“Please, just dry drown me in my soda,” I begged Natasha softly as the girls bounded over. Natasha folded her thin, pink lips around a laugh as I plastered on my best cheery smile.

“Hey, Kristin! I haven’t seen you in forever!” Elizabeth gushed, the three of them stood before us now in skimpy, flashy clubbing clothes. My back pressed against the bar and my three least favorite human beings on my other side, did little to ease my sense of claustrophobia.

“Mmm,” I murmured sipping my soda, the edge of the bar really digging into my spine now, as if I pressed myself into it further it might somehow incorporate me into its form.

“This isn’t really your scene, what are you doing here?” Stephanie asked, the calmest, least excitable of them all.

“Birthday celebration,” I responded, speaking as little as possible. Stephanie just nodded coolly.

“Ooh, happy birthday!” Kim cooed, “And you actually look like a girl tonight, too!” She enthused, a devilishly sweet smile on her round face.

“Yeah, I just discovered the girl’s section in Wal-Mart. Who knew that was there?” I replied sarcastically; mock cheer dripping from my every word. Kim and Elizabeth cringed and looked at me as though I were some kind of alien. Natasha was trying very hard not to spit out her soda and bust out laughing behind me.

“So, do you want to dance with us for awhile?” Stephanie asked, changing the subject. I pulled my phone from my back pocket.

“Ooh, sorry, I have to go. Curfew and all, maybe next time,” I lied, suddenly eager to go back to Natasha’s. They said goodbye and headed back to the dance floor.

“Thank god,” Natasha groaned, “I hate them so much.”

“Tell me about it. ‘Oh, you actually look like a girl tonight’” I mimicked Kim’s high pitched squealing exactly, “I hate how condescending she is,” I shook my head and rolled my eyes.

“Whatever, don’t let them ruin your night. It’s hot as hell in here and I don’t want to run into them again, I’m going to go pull the car around, wait for me out front,” Natasha said, throwing down a couple bills to pay for our drinks.

“Wait, I’ll come with you,” I replied, following her out to the front of the club. It was cold outside in my thin tank top; I shivered and hugged my arms against the breeze.

Natasha rolled her eyes, “It’s fine, the garage is right up the road. It’s your birthday, I won’t make you walk. I pity the person that tries to take me,” Natasha laughed, joking easily. I sighed. It’s pointless to try to argue with her once she’s made up her mind.

“Fine,” I replied begrudgingly, “Be careful!” I called after her as she walked just up the road to the car. The road had really emptied out since we first came into the club, it was darker somehow now, and the stench of the city floated through the air. There was no quiet here though, the way there sometimes could be on Long Island. Honking horns, yelling voices, stray animals fighting for survival in the alleys; inescapable noise constantly rising and swarming the ears of the city residents. We certainly were not in the nicer part of town, garbage mixed with stale alcohol assaulted my nose. The eerie desolation of the street made my hair stand on end.

“Happy birthday,” A playful voice called. A figure somersaulted off the roof of the club behind me and landed in front of me. I jumped in surprise, a squeal escaping me before I could stop it.

“Calm down,” The figure laughed, “it’s just me.”

“Oh,” I sighed in relief, my body relaxing of its own accord, “I was a little worried for a second; I broke my no going out at night rule.”

The figure chuckled and leaned against the unlit streetlamp on the sidewalk across the street from me. A strange thought occurred to me just then. This street had been well-lit when Natasha and I had first arrived, it wasn’t just my imagination. I peered down the block, and sure enough, every lamp sat dark and empty of their former glow. With no moon tonight and not even a hint of artificial light, I could barely make out the figure’s black mask and pale face; the shadows seemed to swallow him, hiding him away from my view. I decided that the figure seemed distinctly masculine, it was the deep tenor of his voice and the cocky air about him, unmistakable for a precocious young male.

“How’d you know it was my birthday?” I asked, squinting, attempting to recognize any feature of the figure. I tried and failed to form the image of someone’s familiar face hiding under that mask. “What are you doing here, anyways? I’m not in danger.” I asked confused, taking another step forward. Is that dark hair? I couldn’t tell when he ended, and shadow began, or vice versa.

“It’s not every day I save the same girl twice, usually it’s just strangers, I figured I could at least stop by for your birthday,” He laughed in the same easy, musical way, taking a step back to match my every step forward. It gave me the strange sense of being locked in a dance.

“How’d you know it was my birthday?” I asked again, taking another eager step forward.

“Remember, dark streets are dangerous at night,” He grinned, the echo of his laugh reached me before he disappeared into the shadows. I raced forward to catch him knowing he was already long gone. A little box with silver wrappings gleamed on the ground in the place he stood just moments ago. I smiled, picked up the box, and gingerly tugged it open. A small, intricate rose charm on a silver chain fell into my hand. I smiled at the beautiful trinket and clasped the necklace around my neck.

“Thank you,” I whispered mostly to myself, staring into the dark that had enveloped him, and fingering the charm. The bright headlights of Natasha’s car suddenly blinded me as she turned the corner.

“Get in!” She yelled, honking the horn. I turned away from the dark alley my figure had retreated into, quickly snapping back to reality. I ran across the street and jumped into the familiar interior of Natasha’s Prius. At least there would always be one stable, sane thing in my life. As we peeled off down the street, I stole one last glance behind me. The street was somehow unchanged following my encounter, dirty and empty, just as it had been. This time, however, I noticed gold light filtering down on the dirty asphalt street from every well-lit streetlamp going all the way down the block, their light illuminating every discarded bottle and stray cigarette butt in their wake. I struggled to find some meaning to this and failed. My head began to spin, all the images from the night flashing behind my eyes, out of order and without any sense to them. I let my head rest against the cool glass of Natasha’s window as we drove towards familiar roads and neighborhoods.

#writing #writers on tumblr #spilled writing #excerpt from a book I'll never write #excerpt from a story i'll never write #excerpts from my life #excerpt from a book i'll never finish #spilledink #spilled ink #spilled poetry #spilled thoughts #literature #lit #shortstory #short fiction #book #bookblr #intotheshadows

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weeklyfangirl · 5 years

Text

Frat Boy Pt. 13

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12

HI WOW TIME HAS SERIOUSLY FLOWN BY FOR ME - enjoy your fratty frat boy in all his angsty glory ;) Let me know what you guys think I miss you!!

“Down to watch Hocus Pocus and pass out candy to wee ones? My parents invited me down.”

Renny’s eyes softened, imagining the cuteness of last year when a toddler showed up dressed as a magnet with an attached note card saying “chick.”

“Okay, usually, yes, but the-”

“DG’s,” I groaned.

Midterms were creeping up and I was slowly dying between late night grading biology tests and the stress that’d been building up wondering about what in the fuck Harry had going on in his mind. He was hot, he was cold, and I wasn’t sure if this was all a massive game to him. It’d been relatively silent on the Harry front ever since the day of island paradise. The memory of his penetrating eyes examining me on the pier, and the twinge of electricity between us had inspired my wandering fingers more than once. I wouldn’t admit that to him, hell, I could barely admit that to myself.

I’d been too stubborn to text him, but not too stubborn enough to wear his sweatshirt out this morning. If we were friends, wearing his sweatshirt wouldn’t be weird. Technically he’d just invited me to meet his dad, which I admit, stung a bit, but a part of me couldn’t give up that he wasn’t into me. Could eyes lie so easily?

The ball was technically in my court to tell him whether or not I’d be going, so…

I slurped a scalding sip of tea, cringing at the inevitable. “Welp, if you’re going to ditch me for the DGs then I might as well go to Harry’s.”

She smirked, “I know.”

I smacked her arm. “Is that why you’re ditching me?!”

“Hey, I’m not ditching you. It’s a thing for new recruits. You were invited, too.”

My ear still ringed with my mom’s shrill scream on the other end of the line when I’d told her - though I’m not sure if she’d be more excited by the fact that her daughter was going to visit the Styles residence or a sorority party.

Renny continued, “And please, as if you’d really go hang out at your parent’s alone when you have an offer to play co-host with Mr. Hunky Mystery Man. We’re sad sometimes, but we’re not that sad. Actually…”

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just… I’m surprised Harry isn’t going to be at the frat’s party.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “He said it was a family tradition.”

Renny’s brows rose at the F word.

“Okay, but their house is also huge, I doubt it’s going to be an intimate affair.” Truthfully, I was excited to see how their house would be decorated. When I told my mother I probably wouldn’t be coming home to pass out candy, she’d told me not to worry. The neighbors were coming over and they had a couple of cheap wine bottles to drain. I’m sure not telling her I was going to the Styles's house wasn’t going to be that big of a deal.

“Are you kidding me? If Harry hands out a grand to cabana men then I can’t imagine what they’re going to spend on this party. Honestly, I’m kind of jealous.”

“Wait- what? He gave Ben a thousand dollars?”

“Is Ben the cabana man?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes. Or about a grand, I mean I didn’t count it myself but it was a thick. Stack.” Renny’s brows shot up. “You seriously didn’t see that?”

No wads of cash were in my memories. I was too busy retreating away to the golf cart to notice any grandiose money exchange. Ben’s words when he was saying goodbye to me at the golf cart suddenly flashed in my mind - tell him thank you for me.

Thank you.

I hadn’t even assumed the reason why. Probably because out of all things, I wouldn’t have guessed that.

Renny tapped on her lips, signalling to mine that I painted a nice neutral. “Like the shade. What’s it for?”

I looked to my watch. “Zayn. And I’m actually going to be late.”

“Ugh, not fair!! Why can’t I have an artist draw me?”

“Please, Felix was practically drooling over you last year, and he’s a graphic designer, right? I’m sure he has some sketches of you locked away in a cabinet somewhere.”

Something that resembled a blush spread on her cheeks.

“Oh my god. Does he?!”

“He probably got rid of it by now.”

I shook my head, scooping up my tea and 50 pound school bag with me. Leave it to Renny to have a collection of men up her sleeve at any given time. Even the beautiful brainy boy.

“Tell Niall to try drawing,” I called back. The mention of the frat star turned a few heads at the crowded campus coffee shop, and I bit my lip at the scene, skirting across campus to the art studios where people wishing to escape found their haven.

---

“A little to the left,” he murmured. His golden brown eyes peered over the white canvas, tirelessly scrupulous as they focused on each feature, and I felt my heart beat faster at the intensity of attention. “A little up.”

My head tilted to his command, my exposed neck feeling even more naked as I noticeably swallowed.

Did he hear that? Did the music need to be played louder?

“Beautiful.” He reached for another charcoal pencil in his kit. “Have you been in here before?” His voice gently rose over the Coldplay softly playing from the speaker system.

“No, not yet,” I admitted. “I was going to take a ceramics class, but I dropped it the first week. Not exactly the sculptor type.”

“So you’re not the artist, more the painting?”

My brows furrowed. “What?”

“I’m taking ceramics,” he said, not bothering to clarify.

“Yeah? You like it?”

He didn’t answer, sweeping his pencil across the page - the aesthetic lulling of the way it scratched along the paper making me realize that yes, he’d definitely heard me gulping earlier.

The soothing noise didn’t stop, and he didn’t answer for a time that seemed much longer than a minute. I wonder what Harry was doing right now? Was he in class? Practice? Not that I should even be thinking about him.

The little smug version of me was dancing in my brain, delighting in the fact that somebody else was paying attention to me, that there were other people who found me desirable besides Harry. Sure, this was solely for Zayn’s assignment, and yeah, Harry could easily have any number of women he merely glanced at - but me? I could get by without him just fine, and-

“Your face comes across so soft on paper. Gentle,” he said, glancing first at his work, then up to me, as if trying to see if the reality mirrored the copy.

I shifted nervously, but the swivel chair was more sensitive than I’d thought and I almost went flying off the other side. He laughed a bit, before taking his top lip between his fingers.

“Look, I’ve nearly got this one finished right. I’ve got your basic outline to finish the rest on my own, creative liberties ‘n that, but I’ll need a few more still lifes from you if that’s…”

“Yeah! That’s fine.”

“Might be a longshot with the holiday, but do you mind coming in this weekend?”

Plans of the Styles’ Halloween bash rang as a reminder, and it buzzed throughout my entire body. “I can’t, actually. I’m going to a party, I think.”

“Really!” he set down the pencil dramatically. “Am I going to see you in a plaid skirt up your bum again, missy?”

“Ouch, no! But fair. Cringeworthy, but fair.” I slid down the chair, crossing my arms. His eyes didn’t change in their intensity even if he wasn’t holding a pencil. “It’s the Styles’ Halloween bash Saturday. I’m guessing it’s a family-friendly affair so no, I will not be in anything showing any skin, anywhere. I guess they do it every year.”

Realization sunk in, but it seemed a bit of a show. “Harry, yeah, that’s right. Are you two…?”

I shook my head, thinking of what Harry must say when (or if) he got asked the same question. There was no doubt in my mind.

“No.”

It was some weird “in between” with us, but no was a much easier answer.

“Right, well, that’ll be interesting then.” He bit his cheek, mulling over something he wasn’t quite sure he should say.

“What?”

He opened his mouth, closed it again. “Nothing, it’s just… I can’t imagine what it’s like to be a part of that family. It’s got a lot of history.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Let’s just say there aren’t that many British boys that get adopted by Americans.”

I tilted my head back, put off at the slight arrogance in his tone. There was a protective side of me that wanted to rear its head and bristle whenever somebody talked down to Harry, and I wasn’t sure how to put it away.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You can look up the story, but-”

A knock at the door, and a petite black-bobbed Asian girl peered her head in.

“Hi, I have the room at 5:30.”

I glanced to the clock on the wall, just a little past.

“We’re finishing up,” he said. She nodded, not budging. A little territorial over the studio space. Which, I completely get. Once midterm season hits, the library starts to resemble a refugee posting with people camped outside cubicles and “quiet rooms,” hoping for the prior group to leave a little earlier if they didn’t have reservations of their own.

“Yeah, we’re done.” I picked up my bag, and put my beanie over my head.

“Well, I’ll be in touch then. Sometime next week?” He followed me to the door, and placed a hand to my lower back. I stopped, trying to discern if there was something else behind his eyes. Maybe this hadn’t just been for a project.

But his hand was removed just as quickly, and with a little “See ya,” he closed the door behind me.

-----------

Lines of vintage cars parked outside the Styles’s home wasn’t what I’d been expecting when Harry had shot a text that it was a masquerade gala. Maybe it should’ve, but it wasn’t. I squinted my eyes at a woman in a neon vest waving around her flashlight to the approaching cars and signalling them to available spots along the street.

How was I meant to find him in this madness?

“Here is fine,” I told the Lyft driver. I’d bit the bullet (or rather, my wallet) to get a ride. I thought I’d bypass the embarrassing “car dying” scenario again and just play it safe. Not that I was expecting to spend the night again… the toothbrush I’d stuffed in my purse screamed otherwise, and seemed to burn a hole into my thigh.

But still, totally not expecting to spend the night.

Totally …. not ….

The sound of the Uber leaving made me realize I was doing this. Again. Willingly walking into the lion’s den simultaneously with at least ten other well-dressed individuals.

Expect me tonight, I’d sent. It was a little bold. I had to refrain from sending any emojis, but I’d done it. Played it cool.

Wear a mask, he’d replied. And I felt my stomach drop a little bit. He hadn’t said-

Cool! Gee, thanks for letting me know! Wow that’s so nice to hear! You made my day!

No.

Just a simple three word request. Actually, more like demand. I bristled the same moment my phone buzzed.

Please.

I sighed. I guess it was four words.

Of all the themes to pick though… I rolled my eyes at “masquerade.” Renny had done the opposite, and flew to her dresser, opening a drawer full of toys and masks and - oh my gosh was that a leash? She handed me one, black lace over the eyes that could lift up and over the cat headpiece. I didn’t ask any questions for why she had this so readily available, because guessing from the other contents in the drawer, I already knew the answer.

“You look-” Renny kissed her fingertips- “Bellissima.”

Older, sophisticated silver foxes arm-in-arm with their wives took the time to glance at the young woman approaching the estate.

I blamed it on the deep red dress Renny stole from the theater department (or borrowed as she insisted). It fanned out with dramatic flair like an 18th century production of Shakespeare would - or how our school’s production of Much Ado About Nothing would (which was now short one costume).

The doors opened to the tinkling of a piano.

Amidst cocktail waiters weaving between the masked strangers, someone was actually playing it. He had brown curly hair and I practically raced to his side to avoid standing in the foyer alone any longer.

“I didn’t know you could play.”

The man quirked his face, his hands not stopping.

Even with the mask I could tell it wasn’t Harry.

“Oh, sorry,” I said, stumbling back.

Hands gripped my shoulders, as lips went to my ear-

“Not well.”

Twisting in his grasp, the familiar curve of his smirk appeared. His green eyes were highlighted by golden flakes etched into a black mask, and my breath quite literally caught in my throat. Somehow, each time, I forgot the magnetism they held. And somehow, each time, I forgot that I was absolute putty in his hands.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

Something flashed in his eyes and I knew it didn’t come out right. “The house looks… amazing.”

I was floundering, FLOUNDERING.

His nose crinkled the same time he placed a hand to the small of my back. “Too many cobwebs.”

And without a word, he started leading me through the crowded rooms. Cobwebs over the banister and scary paintings of haunted people replaced the usual art in their home - except for the centered family portrait, intimidatingly framed in gold. The cobwebs were a fitting touch. I wondered how many secrets these walls held, how many years things have been kept in the dark, or swept under the rug.

Every family had them, but something told me this place had enough storage in all its rooms to hold more than I could imagine.

We passed a room set-up with aisles of empty chairs and a projector screen that read “Jane Foundation.” Pamphlets and envelopes were lain on each of the chairs, but we walked too quickly for me to get a closer read.

“What’s that for?”

“Later. You don’t know?”

I shook my head. He slowed to a halt in the hallway.

“My parents put on a fundraiser every year for the children’s hospital. It’s how we end the evening.”

My mouth opened and again- floundering. He scratched behind his ear.

“Yeah, I thought.. I don’t know, I thought everyone knew. But I shouldn’t assume I guess.”

I just shrugged my shoulders, accepting that his family had the capacity to pull something like this off. That the were pulling this off. That I was even here. Clearly living ten minutes away was certifiably living under a rock.

He paused, a slight quirk in his lips. With the distraction of the music and the people, I hadn’t had the chance to really look at him. Or him, at me. If anyone ever asked, I’d call him shameless, but I wouldn’t even call it that as he drank me in. It didn’t seem as intentional as that. It was instinctive.

I drank him in as well, and even if it was just a brief moment facing each other in the hallway with masked strangers streaming through, it felt like it was just him and I. How long had we been like this? Broad shoulders in a nice suit, a tall frame that could cover and protect, brown curls that looked so soft to touch, and eyes that spoke of scary pasts and a soft heart that locked me still in place. He was walking poetry and as much as it made me sick, I didn’t want to stop. I wanted him closer, to lean in closer...

“Come on,” he murmured, but this time he was in front of me.

I followed, straight to the dining room.

“Oh, you are trying to get me to not fit into this dress,” I said. It was full of catered food from the nicest restaurants in Coast Hills. Last time I’d been in this room, it hadn’t been the most comfortable encounter. Now that the corset was digging into my ribs and I was a little short of breath, I predicted I was in for Awkward Dinner Part II.

“You aren’t hungry?” He faltered, turning to face me.

I gave a coy smile. “Well I didn’t say that…”

“Hey! So good to see you.”

Gemma burst through a small cluster of people, Charlie right behind her. His navy suit matched her slip dress, tapering off at the ends like the foam from a wave.

She embraced me, Charlie soon after. But it was the same side-hug squeeze that made me remember him. Harry noticed my grimace. Charlie noticed Harry noticing me.

“All good?” Charlie pulled back.

“My brother did that all the time,” I said. Harry handed me a glass full of champagne, and I took it, happy to have something else occupy my mouth. I hadn’t expected to say that at all.

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Harry said.

“You don’t know a lot of things.”

Gemma perked up. “That’s right, put him in his place.”

“He’s not around much so, I don’t think to talk about him much.” I left it at that, a slight offering to make Harry feel less offended. His expression was impossible to read, and I wasn’t sure if my words had actually helped or hurt.

“I have a sister like that. Moved to Lisbon with her boyfriend. We see her on holidays though.” Charlie jumped with a chill. “Jiminy- it’s cold in here, isn’t it?”

“Have more wine babes, it’ll cheer you up,” Gemma said. And just like me, a champagne flute was suddenly in his hands.

“Well we were just headed to get some food,” Harry mentioned, eyes slightly widening when they locked with mine - a silent plea to take his cue.

“Wait! Let me take a picture really quickly.”

“Gemma,” he sighed.

“Just a little one! Just a quick...second...” She dug in her purse, struggling to juggle the wine and the mini plate of couscous and falafel.

I took a step to the side as soon as she pulled the camera out.

“Hello? Where do you think you’re going? Get back in there.”

Harry raised his brows to me, both in annoyance and apology. I stood next to him, and he placed an arm around me. It was just for a moment, but I still felt him. Always.

Gemma smiled at her phone. “Aww, this is perfect. I’ll send it to mom, too. She’ll like it.” She said the last bit cautiously.

Harry’s face turned unreadable, his eyes complete stone.

“One for me now,” she said, reaching down for something else.

“I swear, she can hide an elephant in that bag and the only reason someone would know is because it’d trumpet during the previews.”

She pulled out a polaroid camera. Somehow, in the past five seconds, he’d gone from mildly annoyed and embarrassed to deadpanned over it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he actually growled.

She held up the camera so I smiled, but as the flash went off and I looked beside me - he was gone.

“Oh! Harry,” she scolded, but he’d already walked too far away. I saw him weave his way towards the windows of the house and look out.

“You shouldn’t have mentioned her.” Charlie kicked his shoe. He saw Harry too, looking vigilantly out the window. A second longer and he turned on his heel. He stood taller as he made his way back.

“Well, at least it’ll be a good picture of you. I’m creating a little collage of the evening.” Gemma put the camera away in her big bag. She reminded me of a mom on prom night and suddenly I felt like I should send that photo to someone, too.

“That’s so cool! I’m sure it’s going to look so… cute.” Through the crowd, Harry motioned to the food. Clearly, he wasn’t in the mood to say brief goodbyes to his sister.

“We won’t keep you. Get the pasta pops though. To die for,” Gemma said. “Charlie and I were going to take a stroll by the pool if you want to join us after.”

“Yes! Oh, and would you mind sending me the photo, too? My mom wants proof I’m alive tonight.”

“God, of course. Here.” She gave the champagne flute to Charlie, typed in my number, and sent it off.

“We’ll see you later,” Charlie said.

“The pasta poppers!” she exclaimed, flute in the air as they weasled their way out to the patio.

Before I could wonder where Harry was, he met me by the Sprinkles cupcakes stand.

“Going for dessert first?”

“Looking for the moon?” I picked one of the mini cupcakes and plopped it in my mouth to spite him. He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away for a split second before looking back. His smile grew.

“Damn it.”

My heart picked up its pace.

“You caught me.”

He held another cupcake to my lips but I shook my head. “I’m hungry for real food right now.”

He nodded, and without me saying another word, he took my elbow to bring me to his side. It was comforting to have his hand at my back as we walked through the spread of food. Even if it was lightly placed, in a crowd full of people I didn’t know, at least I had a place with him. My eyes widened when I saw them. The glorious, innovative Pasta Pops. AKA rolled up ball of pesto pasta on chopsticks… I grabbed four.

“So, when am I seeing your dad?”

“What?” He piled more food on top of the mountain already growing on his plate.

“Your dad. The reason why you invited me.” I didn’t believe it. Not anymore. The host of the party wasn’t going to sit down and talk about a potential internship at his own full-fledged party.

I put a Pasta Pop in my mouth. His attention broke and he watched my lips go over the ball, puckering as I pulled it to the tip. It’s when my lips came off with a “pop” that he sucked in a cheek, smirking.

“You won’t be talking with Lionel long. Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself in the meantime.”

But when I reached over someone’s arm to grab a slider, they stopped me.

“Hey, you.”

His eyes lit up and instantly I was drawn in for an awkward hug. Behind his back, I mouthed did you plan this?

He shrugged his shoulders and looked away with a sly look.

Lionel pulled away from our quick embrace and looked to my pile of food. It was my turn for the awkward shrug.

“No, it’s good! Keep going! We have enough food here to feed a small country. Are you still thinking about medicine?”

“Yeah, not much has changed in the past couple of weeks. Same old, same old.”

He paused, raising a finger. “I gave you my card, right?”

How could I forget the card that’s been burning a hole through my dresser…

“Yes. I’ve been meaning to call you, but I’ve been so busy studying with these midterms, and work, too...” I let my voice fade.

“What do you do for work?”

Harry slowed as he picked up a napkin, and I knew he was listening in even if he wouldn’t stop and join the conversation. I watched his eyes skirt across the table close to where my hand toyed with the serving spoon.

“Well, I’m a T.A. right now, but I’m also working in the physical therapy room on campus. It’s pretty easy for the most part, blood doesn’t scare me.”

“Good. You’ll need a strong stomach for most cases.” A man tapped him on the shoulder, stealing his attention. “Give me a call when you can, we’ll set something up at the practice.”

He leaned in behind Harry, both hands on his back. “Take care of her tonight.”

Harry stiffened. I’m not sure why. Lionel had such a warm look in his eyes, I automatically trusted him. As he left with his friend, he flashed us one white smile, and I felt loved.

What the heck was in this family. What kind of beauty steroids did they take?

“Penny for your thoughts?”

The quip sounded weird coming from Harry, the Vogue Italia model, leaning against the table. But then again, I was looking after his father with a dazed look on my face that was screaming “I wish I was 40 and you weren’t married.” I snapped out of it and mimicked his pose, equally skeptical.

“If I hadn’t seen your dad here just now, I swear I wouldn’t have seen him at all. I barely recognize the place with so many…”

“People?”

I nodded.

“I promised that you’d talk to him.”

“Riiiight.”

“You don’t trust me?”

My brows rose. “That’s a loaded question.”

A spark of indignance puffed up his chest. “What? You actually have to think about that?”

“I’m just saying. Communication is usually the key to building that up. Just, you know, a friendly tip to help you with those future relationships.” I tapped his chest, and he reached for my wrist. A bold move, sober. He thought so, too, for he dropped it a second later. I was waiting for a, “You can trust me,” but instead he turned serious.

“Smart girl.”

He looked at me that way again. A little too deep, a little too long, and I cursed myself for not knowing what to do. He took a bit of his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I didn’t know you worked in the therapy room.”

“That’s because you never noticed me before.”

“Ah, ah,” he raised a finger like his father. “That’s because I’ve never been injured before.”

I let out a short laugh. “You’re an arrogant thing, aren’t you.”

“Just honest.”

Honest.

But would you answer if I asked, Harry? Would you answer if I asked you what in the heck we were doing? Did I even want to know the answer?

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he said. And it looked like there was something more swimming behind those eyes.

“I am, too,” I said. “Much better than a sorority party...” My eyes narrowed. “What in the-”

“Y/N?”

Clearly, Viv was just as surprised to see me. Mary Styles was beside her, and she raised her glass to me in a distant hello before giving Viv a kiss on the cheek, excusing herself.

“What are you doing here?” The silver blue dress she wore was glued to her skinny frame like snakeskin. Harry shifted his feet as she came closer and I wonder if he noticed how tight it was.

“I followed the noise and traffic directors and decided to hop the gates,” I said.

“You didn’t get the initiate invite?”

An almost pitiful look befell Harry. “You had somewhere else to be?” His puppy dog eyes confused me.

“Technically, yes. I just, um” - I looked to Viv - “decided to spend my evening somewhere else. You didn’t care to go either?”

“Oh, I come every year. I practically live in the guest room anyways.”

I pictured Viv laying poolside during summer barbeques, coming around for Christmas parties, and waking up in her silk pajamas to Sven handing her delicious pastries.

“Well this’ll be fun anyways. We’ll have our own little sorority party here.” She turned to Harry. “Can I speak to you for a second?”

“Yeah.”

She looked at me apologetically, then back to him. “Alone.”

His eyes narrowed just the slightest, but he didn’t even have to think about it. He placed a hand at my back. “I’ll just be a second.”

Viv gave me a half-smile as she interlinked her arm through his, and they left, abandoning me in a swarming crowd with cold sliders. Without him beside me, I fought the ever-present urge that I didn’t belong, but wandering to the glass doors, I saw the red gown in the reflection, the black lace of my mask. I didn’t look like regular ‘ol me tonight. Nobody knew me tonight. A rush of confidence ran through me.

I was somebody. With, or without Harry.

A twinkling bell carried through the halls the same time I stood a little taller. The piano music died down and everyone quieted.

“I hope everyone is enjoying their evening,” the shrill voice of Mary Styles carried higher as she placed herself atop the spiral staircase. Some people clapped a little prematurely and she smiled at them graciously. “If everyone could please begin filing into the foundation room, we are about to begin the programme.”

I stole another flute of champagne. Programme.

The twinkling sound rang again and people began handing their plates over so they could grab their wallets. Several men apologized as they bumped into me, trying to move around the cocktail waiters. Wherever Harry was, he’d just have to find me later. I followed the crowd when my blood ran cold.

There was something sweet in the air.

The air around me seemed thinner. I looked around, quickly, but all I saw were masks. Even if they didn’t have them on, their faces were starting to blur in my mind.

But that too-sweet scent would never.

It was the man from Kean’s.

I inhaled again, but it was gone, carried away and overpowered by Dior perfume and Gucci cologne. Were they here? Were they watching me? Were they waiting to get me alone?

They’d done it before. Maybe it’d be easier this time...

My mind went to horrible places, and suddenly I was running against the sea.

I scanned as I ran, but it was futile. I burst through the kitchen doors and froze. There, Mary Styles was heaving over the trashcan spitting out strands of pesto pasta.

She looked up at me with the emptiest eyes I’d seen.

“I’m-I’m sorry.” I bumped into the counter, stumbling out the way I came. Her glossy eyes were haunting. Had I just seen Mrs. Styles eject the contents of her stomach?

Alone, I shook it off, trying to calm my breathing. They couldn’t do anything to me here. Hell, Mrs. Styles was on the other side of the door. I would scream. People would hear me.

“Hey, you okay?”

And even though I recognized the voice, when his hands were placed on my shoulders I flinched.

“I smelled them,” I said, looking over my shoulder to the kitchen.

“Who?” Harry’s eyes followed my gaze. He took a step toward the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t,” I said.

He stopped, confused. “I mean, you can, but I think your mom is sick,” I continued.

My tone wasn’t convincing. He bit his cheek. “Right.”

And even though we both knew that his mom didn’t have food poisoning, that was a conversation for another time.

“They’re here, Harry.”

“What are you talking about?” He paused. His eyes saw the panic in mine and he swallowed, hard.

“They can’t be. There’s security.”

“I walked through the door, no one searched me or checked my name off a list.”

“You’re a girl, it’s different. The security has a list of faces to watch out for, and trust me, they’d stand out.”

“No- Harry,” I stammered. He wasn’t get it. “Their cologne. I haven’t smelled it since Kean’s.” The name tasted bitter on my tongue. “I was there- and your mom was talking and I was following these people but I smelled them. And it was so crowded so I ran and she was in the kitchen, and I don’t- I don’t know how, but they’re here. I didn’t imagine that. And no one else would be wearing that. No one else could smell like that.”

I gasped for air, not realizing that I was on the verge of sobbing until Harry’s arms came around me.

“Hey,” he soothed. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

I let him hold me, but I wasn’t sure if I believed him. Their living area was too empty now. Too quiet. And even in his arms, even knowing what he’d done to them before, I didn’t feel safe. What was the point of having a massive castle if you couldn’t defend it? Your wealth just made you a sitting duck. A giant target.

“Why would they be here?” I asked.

“They wouldn’t be stupid enough to come here,” he reassured me.

“You probably think I’m crazy.”

“No, don’t do that to yourself.” He pulled back just enough. “You’re not crazy.”

And with no one to see, he took my hand, leading me past the foundation room. A part of me actually wanted to see the auction, but my mounting paranoia was stronger. We passed by the bar on the way to his room. It’d been empty for my last visit, but now the caterers were taking full advantage of its liquor storage capacity.

“Let’s see,” his voice drawled as his fingers shifted through the bottles. He didn’t ask before pouring us two cocktails.

“After you,” he said, nodding towards his room. By the time I’d sat down at the foot of his bed, he shut the door behind us with both drinks, and the vodka handle in the crook of his arm.

“Is the foundation for your sister? Jane?”

Harry avoided eye contact as he set the bottle down, pushing his hair back, brows raised.

“Uh, kind of. I never knew her.” He turned to me finally, shrugging with an apathy that had taken years to perfect. “I mean it’s sad, we don’t have to talk about it now.”

“Is it ever a good time?”

He looked at me, giving me the chance to take back what I did. I didn’t.

“She died before I was adopted.”

“Oh.” My stomach dropped. There was so much I didn’t know, but I hadn’t been expecting this. His eyes didn’t hold any sadness, but guilt still pricked my heart. “I’m sorry.”

He looked out the window again, distracted.

“Again, I didn’t know her. It’s sad, but I don’t…” -he tried to find the right words, loosened his tie- “It’s not my grief.”

I nodded; that made sense. It was his parents. The Styles. But the legacy of that pain couldn’t have had zero repercussions on their second child. There was more to the story than he was sharing, but I didn’t press. I walked closer, slowly toying with my drink.

“So you find it hard to miss something you never had,” I clarified.

He took a deep breath. “Cheers.” He raised his glass to me and I mimicked him, cringing at the stiff drink.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Warm.”

He nudged me, growing serious. “You know what I mean.”

How was I feeling? The inner me cleared her throat and yelled from a soap box.

Jealous.

Scared.

Confused.

ANNOYED at how many windows this house had. I looked at Harry’s dark mask, the swirling madness in his emerald, the way the suit fit snug against his toned body… we were very much alone.

Add turned on to my emotional cocktail.

“I’m feeling a lot.”

“Hm,” he hummed. “I’m feeling a lot too.” And it was so quiet. So bizarre to hear him say something even remotely close to feelings that I stood completely still. Was his drink as strong as mine?

Our eyes were locked, but he didn’t turn away. I fought every fiber in my screaming to break the intense spell.

He leaned in closer, tilted his head lower. Our noses brushed.

Panic.

“Are you and Viv…?”

“I’m not up here with her am I.”

Relief.

But I didn’t have the courage to say she’d probably been up here before.

“You know” - he pulled me closer, waists closing in - “I’m going to need a lot of help with that midterm,” he mumbled.

Elation.

An almost laugh that just lasted for a moment, because school seemed so trivial for what was happening in this house. There seemed to be split parts of me - the one I’ve always known and the one with him. Which one was more real to me now? I wasn’t sure if I was the same person that I once was - happy alone, solely immersed in school or netflix nights in. I’d been fine. I’d been safe. Maybe a little bored, but I hadn’t known there was more. With him there was a chaos that burned off his shoulders, that simmered in his eyes, and I drank in the warmth like a person frozen from snow.

His hands squeezed my sides, and my eyes fluttered closed. “How are you feeling now?”

“Good.”

He didn’t say anything more, but our breath was now in sync. It didn’t matter what he couldn’t say. What mattered was him, and the fact that when he looked at me, I felt everything he couldn’t say.

Eyes couldn’t lie. Not like that.

So I lifted my lips, and he went in for the kiss.

It was like I’d been starved of oxygen when his soft lips encompassed my own. Oh God, I’d missed this buzz. I’d missed him.

His hands cradled my face as he backed me up to the edge of the bed, lips never parting. A greedy hand shifted lower and he gripped the curve of backside. I whimpered a little, lips parting to allow his tongue to sneak in as he marked what I was so willing to give. He wasn’t pulling away this time. He wasn’t telling me no.

I sat at the edge of the bed where he’d placed us, and leant back, his body falling atop mine. His delicious weight pinned me down, and he kissed down my neck, nibbling, biting. With a particularly hard suck, I moaned and when I looked down I saw him paused, hooded eyes looking up at me from the sound. His hands travelled down, slowly, from my waist to the ends of my dress. He was heavy but not crushing, deliberate but with respect. He waited for an answer.

I nodded.

He bit his lip in a smirk as he hitched up my dress. One hand clutching the soft skin of my hips, as the other supported him above me, Harry rolled his hips against me.

Oh.

Against the thin fabric of my underwear, I felt him harden between my folds. Gentle kisses were peppered along my chest and I pulled him closer.

“Harry,” I whispered, lifting my hips against his. He groaned into my ear, a playful bite at the lobe.

I shivered the same time his fingers travelled lower against my stomach. He stopped at the band of underwear, my breath catching when he cupped my sex.

“Is this okay?” he whispered.

I nodded, hummed, as his hand slowly rubbed against me. I could feel him watch me intently, but mostly I could feel him. Up, down, up... the friction against my bundle of nerves made my lips part. Again, and again, my breathing deepened and soon I was rutting against his hand. The damp patch he created was evident as he took several fingers and ran them against it. He applied pressure at my center and I wanted him to do more.

He kissed my neck and a “please” stumbled out of my mouth. He smiled, letting out a small breath. He kissed my lips as his fingers pulled aside the lace. The cutest gesture of reassurance when there was nothing to reassure.

I’d dreamt about this too many times for me to back out. This time I wouldn’t shy away. I took his bottom lip between mine. Go.

But a glass shattering scream carried up the stairs.

The commotion from downstairs grew louder, and I didn’t need to say anything.

I’d already known.

His hand retracted, and as quickly as it started, he’d rolled off to his side, my comforting weight gone.

“What the fuck,” he muttered. He stood dead still at the edge of the bed but when he heard someone coming up the stairs, he lunged for the dresser, reached for the top drawer -

From outside, “Harry! Harry, are you up here?”

The door flew open.

His arm fell to his side.

Gemma stood at the doorway, slightly out of breath.

“You need to come downstairs. Now.”

I pulled my dress down, but Gemma wasn’t paying attention to me. There was a wild look in her eye only Harry could understand.

He didn’t look back to me as he barrelled past her, she followed suit. I sat at the edge of the bed; alone, dishevelled, disoriented. I was scared to follow.

Everything could change in a moment.

There were footsteps at the door again and I looked up just in time to see Harry striding across the floor to me.

“What are you-”

His lips crashed into mine, and my breath was suspended again. There was an urgency in the kiss that hadn’t been there before. Deep, hard, a hand tangled in my hair when another hitched up my skirt. His fingers swiped at my entrance once and before I could kiss him back he pulled away.

He let out an exasperated breath, and leant his forehead against mine.

“I have to take care of this.”

Unflinching, he drew the fingers that’d just pressed against my center up to his parted lips before swiping them against my own.

He stood tall as he walked away, broad shoulders subtly moving beneath the suit as he drew a key from his pocket and closed the door behind him.

There was no way in hell I was staying here.

I shot up, running to the door - but it was locked. I pounded against it.

“Harry? Harry let me out this isn’t funny!”

I jiggled the handle again. Nothing.

I wanted to scream, debated about screaming as I paced around the room. My eyes went to the top drawer of his dresser. I stopped. He’d reached for something there.

When I pulled it open it was just some old band t-shirts, but my hand hit something in the back. Pushing aside the shirts was a black box.

I quickly undid the clasp.

A black handgun.

I shoved the box to the back as quickly as I’d opened it.

Fuck no.

Frickity fracking fuck no.

He’d been reaching for a gun.

What kind of threats was he used to that he needed a gun?

I took a bobby pin from my hair, and with an expert skill that only growing up with a sibling could teach you, the lock was picked.

It took me at least five minutes, but the door opened. I booked it downstairs, a flounder of red dress heading into a quiet commotion.

I didn't see him when I made it down the stairs. There were too many confused bystanders huddled around their phones and switching social circles, whispering frantically about the scene before them.

I didn’t need to see anything in the crowd. For up on the wall, between collectors’ paintings was a vacant space.

The family portrait was gone.

And in its place was a snake that matched the one I’d seen tattooed on skin, the same snake that had been wrapped around my neck.

part 14

#posted a day after april 13 coiNCIDENCE I THINK NOT #harry styles #frat boy #Harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #fratboy!harry #one direction #onedirection #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #fratboy! harry #1direction #one direction imagine #one direction one shot #harry styles preference #harry styles blurb #harry fic

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forever-rogue · 5 years

Text

The Edge of Thirty - Part 4

Summary: Everyone seems to be getting married, having babies, or “growing up.” Except Y/N. Suddenly at almost thirty, reality seems to be crashing down on her – and hard. Nothing seemed as daunting as turning thirty…until she met Gwilym Lee anyway.

A/N: Yay, part 4! Thank you guys for all the positive response on this series so far! I’m glad you’re all liking it! Enjoy some fluff before the storm! Taglist is open! xx

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: fluff, some sad feels (tm) (aka foreshadowing??)

MASTERLIST

It was supposed to be a blissful Saturday morning of sleeping in late and watching up to snuggles from Deacon. As luck would have it lately, routine was thrown out the window, and instead of a nice snooze, the harsh vibrating of her phone stirred Y/N from her zombie-like slumber. The nerve of someone to call this early on a Saturday.

Groaning, she stuck an arm out from under the covers and fumbled around on the nightstand for the buzzing device. After a few seconds of fruitless searching, her fingers came into contact with it and pulled it to her ear, answering without checking who it was. A big mistake.

"Y/N L/N," she cringed and immediately regretted her actions at the sound of her mother's shrill voice. She knew that tone and those inflections very well, having heard them countless times throughout her life. Her mother was livid about something. Y/N remained silent for a few moments wondering is she could just chuck the phone across the phone, "are you there?"

"Hi Mumma," she replied meekly, trying to conjure up an excuse for ending the call as quickly as possible, "I'm here."

"Are you still in bed?" internally sighing, she decided not to entertain her question, "Y/N, it's almost noon. You're a grown adult, quiet lazing about, I'm sure there's plenty of stuff you need to do.”

"Mum,” she sighed, and rubbed the bleariness from her eyes. Next to her, Deacon huffed a little bit and crawled further under covers disappearing so only his tail was sticking out, “I’m a grown adult, I think I can make my own decisions. Besides, it’s the weekend and I’ve had a long week and just want some rest.”

She tutted through the phone, clearly not believing a word coming out of her mouth. As much as she loved Y/N, she always worried about her a little more than her other kids. Y/N had always been the most wild and care free child, never one for decorum and rules, “lovey, you need to start getting your life together-”

“Mum,” she cursed under her breath, holding the phone away from her year. It really wasn’t her week, “I don’t need a lecture right now. I know you think I’m a horrible failure.”

“Y/N,” her mother sounded exasperated on the other line, “I don’t think you’re a failure, whatsoever. You’ve accomplished so much, and you deserve to feel proud. I just worry about you sometimes. All your friends are settling down and moving on to the next chapters in their lives. Especially Lucy and Becca. And Benny too. I spoke to his Mum the other day, and she said you had some kind of fight? What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing...look, I know - I know, everyone’s getting married, having babies, and it’s all super exciting!” she sat up in bed and leaned against the headboard, trying to figure out to get her off the phone. She didn’t want to get into this discussion right now. She just wanted a break, “look, Mumma, I’m going to go. I promise I’ll get up and do all the adult things I need to.”

“Lovey, just listen to me for a moment,” her voice changed a little bit, getting more tender and calm, “I love you and care about your well being, that’s all. I just don’t want you to remain the same while all your friends are moving on. It’s okay to change, Y/N, it’s okay embrace getting older. You’re not going to be a twenty-something forever. You don’t have to hang onto the bad things so tightly and refuse to change.”

“I know,” she agreed, squeezing her eyes shut tightly and gnawing at her lower lip, “I’ll be okay. Things will happen when they’re meant to. I don’t like to force things.”

“Just promise me that you’ll take care of yourself, okay? Embrace new things, go out and try new things,” she said softly, “who knows, maybe you’ll even meet a nice man. I know it was hard for you to get over him, but it’s okay to let yourself love again-”

“Love is a strong word,” Y/N shook her head and wished this conversation had never happened. She should have let the phone ring and go to voicemail. A few hot tears rolled down her cheeks as she tried to keep her voice from trembling too much, “besides, I’m not interested in anyone right now.” Lies.

“I’m not saying you have to be, lovey. Just know it’s okay to let people in and to embrace change. I love you so much, I want you to be happy,” her mother paused for a moment, letting out a long breath, “it’s okay to be happy, he would have wanted you too be happy-”

“I am happy, Mum,” Y/N cut her off then and there, not ready to traverse into the dangerous territory she tried so hard to suppress. It was too early on a Saturday morning after the hell of a week she’d had to even think about any of this. She wiped her tears away, telling herself not be weak and cry, “look, I’m going to go. Tell Dad I said hello.”

She didn’t give her mother the chance to say anything else, opting to end the call first. She tossed her phone back on the nightstand, slumping back against the pillows in defeat. She didn’t even want to get out of bed at this point, and decided she’d spend the day there, keeping herself company with Netflix. It had felt like a long week of self isolation, and she was fine with continuing that at this point. Netflix didn’t make her feel bad about every decision she made. Only about the countless hours of binge watching, and that much she could live with.

After talking Deacon for a walk and making him breakfast, or lunch at that point, she flopped back into her warm bed, not even bothering to shower. She hadn’t planned on going out today so she figured it didn’t really matter.

Looking at her phone, she played with it in her hands for a few moments, contemplating if she should call Ben or her friends. Lucy and Becca had sent her a few texts the night before to check in on her but she hadn’t responded. Not out of spite or anger, she just didn’t have the energy. It all seemed to be too much, and yet not enough, at once.

Plus, she had no doubt in her mind that Ben had told them all about their altercation - there were no secrets within their friend group. The look on his face as he had tossed the coffees into the bin had haunted her. She wished she could take it all back, apologize and explain everything in a calm, rational manner.

Knowing it wasn’t a good idea to start anything in her current state of mind, she opted against doing anything and tucked her phone away. Grabbing her remote she turned on Netflix, scrolling through numerous titles to find something to preoccupy her. After what seemed like a small eternity, she settled on The Office once again; seeing the familiar faces of her favorite characters always provided a bit of comfort.

It didn’t take however before she could feel her eyelids getting heavy, the sweet call of sleep reaching out to her. Yawning and clutching her pillow, she rolled onto her side and snuggled into the blankets, pulling them tightly around her. Soon enough, she was in a deep slumber, shifting from dream to dream.

Some included Ben, him yelling at her and ending their lifelong friendship, some included her mother and father, disappointingly lecturing her. A few even included Gwil, looming over her with a self satisfied smile on his face as he whispered as sweet nothings into her ear. It was that last bit that she woke up in the middle of.

“Jesus Christ,” she almost shouted as she awoke with a startle. Her heart was thumping wildly in her chest and she tried to calm down. It hadn’t even been a bad dream, but something had caused her to suddenly wake up. It was getting dark in her room by now, the last bits of daylight were barely streaming in through her window.

Pulling out her phone to check the time, she groaned when she saw that it was nearing five. She’d been asleep for longer than she’d planned, not that it made much of a difference when she didn’t have plans. The phone started to buzz in her hand, pulling her back into reality as she glanced at the screen, hoping it wasn’t her mother calling to check back in on her. It wasn’t - it was Gwil.

“Hello?” she asked tentatively after letting it ring a few more times, not wanting to seem to eager. But she sucked in her breath and eagerly waited for his response.

“Y/N? It’s Gwil,” that voice was almost enough to make her melt. Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from squealing with delight, she listened for him to continue on, “I hope it’s not too soon for me to be calling?”

“No,” she admitted. She liked that he didn’t mess around or feel the need to stick to all these silly dating rules people seemed to believe in, “I like that you’re calling. It means you’re actually real, not just some figment of my imagination.”

“I promised you I’d call,” he said with a soft laugh, “and I can assure you, if you’d dreamed me up, you’d probably get something a lot better than the actual me.”

As if she thought to herself. From what she had seen of him, he was utter perfection. A classically handsome specimen of a man with a sweet smile and eyes that draw her right in, “you doubt yourself so.”

“Eh, it’s all in good fun,” she could picture him, sitting there, leaned back and shrugging his shoulders casually. She didn’t know him well, but at the same time she felt like she knew so much about already. He seemed to notice her silence as she got lost in her daydream fantasies, “Y/N? Are you still with me?”

“Yeah, sorry,” her cheeks heated up as she mentally face palmed herself, “I guess I’ve been a little bit spacey as of late.”

“So I’ve heard,” he says quietly, a gentle tone to his voice, “Jenny’s noticed you haven’t been feeling yourself this week.”

“She’s a clever girl,” Y/N laughed, hoping it hadn’t been too obvious to her other students that she has been down and out for the count this week, “there’s just been a lot going on.”

“I’m sorry you’ve had a trying week,” she closed her eyes and wished she was in his arms right now. They probably gave the best hugs, “how about I try and make it a little better?”

“And how do you propose to do that?” she teased him, perking up a bit at the possibility of seeing him again, “I’m not just a cheap shag you know. That was a one time accident.”

“You consider it an accident?” he mused out loud, desperately hoping that it wasn’t true, “because I don’t. Not a typical start to a relationship, but I think we can make it work.”

“It wasn’t an accident,” she agreed quietly, the fact that he deem whatever they had a relationship was not lost on her. It was both terrifying and exhilarating to have a man, a real man, use those words.

“Are you free tonight?” he asked, you gave him a murmur of confirmation, “how about I take to you to dinner, and possibly dessert if you don’t get too sick of me?”

“I’d like that,” she agreed. peeking at her closet and wondered what to wear. She wanted to impress him, but didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard, “it’s been a while since a man hasn’t just asked me to Netflix and Chill.”

“That’s because those weren’t men, those were boys,” he stated like it was a fact, “and we can always come round to mine, if you really want to watch Netflix.”

“I’ve got my own,” she stated confidently, a surge of confidence coursing through her veins, “maybe this time you can round to my place. But we’ll see how it goes. Perhaps you’ll find me terribly drool.”

“I don’t think that’s possible with you,” he replied, and you bit the inside of her cheek to keep from squealing in delight, “How about I pick you up at six? Text me your address and be prepared to be wined and dined.”

“You’re setting very high expectations for yourself, Mr. Lee,” she giggled as she climbed out of bed and stumbled to her closet to start sifting through her clothes.

“Don’t worry, I intend to deliver,” she could just picture the smug little smirk on his handsome features, “I’ll see you soon, love.”

“Bye Gwil,” she smiled to herself as she ended the call. Looking at the time she saw it was already a quarter past five. She wouldn’t have much time to make herself look decent before he arrived at her doorstep. She stripped off her clothes and ran into the bathroom, cursing silently under breath. She didn’t really know why, but she wanted things to go perfectly with him - it was like she needed him already.

At six on the dot, a knock came at her door, causing Y/N to panic slightly. She was dressed and had her makeup lightly done, but hadn’t done much else.

She hadn’t even had the time to straighten up, leaving her flustered and feeling like the apartment was a mess. To hell with it she thought to herself as she almost tripped over a pair of shoes that she had left by the front door.

“Hey!” she almost shouted as she pulled open the door, trying to slow the thumping of her heart. It was partly due to her nerves, and from her rush to the door. He stood there, eyebrow raised with a smile on his face, and a small bouquet of flowers in his hand. Her breath hitched in her throat at the beautiful sight in front of her. He looked stunning of course, wearing a blue button up which showed off his toned torso, and well-fitting slacks., his hair styled perfectly, “holy - wow.”

“Hello to you too,” he beamed at her, giving her the once over. She suddenly felt under dressed next to him; she had opted for a simple sundress. He stepped inside and leaned down to kiss her cheek, hanging over the flowers, “you look very pretty.”

“I look horrible compared to you,” she almost huffed, taking the flowers gently and giving them a sniff. They were lovely, just like him. Deacon scurried into the room and barked lightly at Gwil to get his attention. He bent down and obliged him, giving some scratches and pets behind his ears. She watched them closely as she grabbed a vase and arranged the flowers gently, making sure they were all properly displayed. Deacon seemed to be taken with Gwil, “he likes you. He’s a good judge of character.”

“I like him too and your place. Very bohemian,” he said as he straightened back up, tilting his head to the side and observing her. She had the faintest hint of color in her cheeks, which he had already decided he liked. She caught him staring and just shook her head, “you don’t look horrible by the way. No one will even spare me a second glance once they see you.”

“You’re such a flatterer,” she smirked, “you’ve already gotten in my pants, so there’s no need, really.”

“You’re something else, you know that?” he held out his hand to her, which she gladly took, feeling all sorts of butterflies in her stomach. No one had made her feel anything close to this in ages, “how do you feel about Italian?”

“My favorite,” she smiled at him, giving Deacon a wave of goodbye as she shut the door behind them, “just so you know, I’m already impressed. Flowers, my dog likes you, and my favorite food? I could get used to this.”

“I hope you do, Y/N,” he held open the door for her, and led her outside in the warm, summer evening breeze. He held open the car door for her, making sure she was safely inside before shutting the door gently and getting into the driver’s side, murmuring silently to him, “I sure hope you do.”

Dinner with Gwil was easy. There wasn’t a single awkward moment between the two of them and somehow, Y/N had no clue as to why, it felt like they had already known each other for ages.

He was the epitome of a dream: he pulled out her chair for her, let her order dinner, and selected a wine that went perfectly with everything.

Conversation never skipped a beat and it was easy to get lost in his stories, watching him intently as his blue eyes sparkled with excitement. He took the time to speak about himself and ask Y/N about her own life. She’d gone and told him about her awful week, her fight with her best friend, and how the world seemed to be against her lately. But he nodded in understanding and reassured her that it was all normal, a part of growing up and older. It made the heavy pit in her stomach feel a little better. If he survived so effortlessly, maybe she could too.

The two of them talked about anything and everything came that up. It was all so natural, so no moments of ‘oh I wish I hadn’t said that’ or 'oh dear’ occurred. They had agreed to be honest with one another, because after all, a solid foundation was the cornerstone of a successful relationship. And Y/N had done that - she had been brutally honest about everything. Almost everything.

“Have you ever had an actually serious relationship?” Gwil asked as he took a bite of steak, flushing it down with a sip of red wine. Y/N froze in time, gripping her fork so tightly that her knuckles were starting to turn ghost white. For whatever reason, he hadn’t noticed, “love?”

“No,” she choked out, avoiding his cerulean gaze as she intently stabbed at the pasta on her plate. Part of her was nagging at her to just to tell him now, to tell him the truth, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not now, “not really. I hope that doesn’t turn you off.”

“It’s not a big deal, just my curiosity,” he gave her a sly wink, nudging her foot with his gently under the table. This time he had noticed a different look in her eyes, but chose not to bring it up just yet.

“What about you?” she asked, wondering what he would tell her. It was hard for her to believe that someone like him, an almost unreal iteration of a man, was a perpetual bachelor.

“Ahh, I was wondering if you were going to ask. You’re a curious little thing, aren’t you?” he cheekily raised his eyebrows at her, causing a rush of blood to flow to her cheeks, “I was…engaged to be married for a time.”

“What happened?” she almost blurted out, her interest peaked and at an all time high. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, but the half smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“We were together for about three years,” he admitted, “and after two years I asked her to marry me and she said yes. About halfway through planning the wedding I found out that she’d been sleeping with one of my colleagues for almost two years. Needless to say, things did not end well.”

“I’m so sorry,” her heart broke a little for him. He seemed liked such a genuinely kind person, it was hard to imagine anyone doing this to him. He left a small laugh and shrugged his shoulders as if to say 'c'est la vie.’ She reached over and grabbed his hand, “no one deserves to have their heartbroken like that, especially you.”

“I’m not hung up on her in the slightest. Besides, it was already almost two years ago now,” he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice so only she could hear him, “I hope I haven’t scared you off, Y/N. Because I really like you already.”

“I really like you too, Gwil,” she bit at her lip slightly.

Gwil had promised her dessert and made good on his promise, just like the gentleman he was. He had taken her to his favorite little shop, a hole in the wall unsuspecting sort of place, and had let her have free reign. The two of them left the shop with big bowls of the most delicious ice cream, brimming with toppings.

“Why don’t we go back to my place?” she suggested, trying to not seem just desperate to get in his pants. She just genuinely enjoyed his company and wanted to spend more time with him, “that way we can eat dessert in peace. Plus, you can enjoy my awful Netflix suggestions.”

“That sounds like an offer I can’t refuse,” he agreed, deciding to be cheeky and take a bite of her ice cream. She jokingly pouted as he made sure to like every last bit of the spoon, “are you just going to keep staring?”

“Oh, shut up and get in the car,” she had gotten caught staring again. Oh, what he must have thought of her.

“Please explain to me why you’ve got this many movies and shows on your watch list, when all you do is watch The Office?” he flicked through her queue and she smacked his arm in defeat. They were cuddled up in her bed together, deciding to forgo the awkwardness of cuddling on the couch before moving into the bedroom. Besides, that bridge had already been crossed.

“Because it’s a relatable and re watchable show,” she insisted, finishing off her last bits of ice cream. He snickered but decided to oblige her and put it on where she had left off from, “you don’t have to watch it just because of me!”

“I want to though,” he promised her. He put his arm around her, and she instinctively snuggled into his side, resting her head his chest. He smelled delicious; a warm, musky sort of smell mixed with his natural body chemistry. It was almost intoxicating. His heartbeat was strong and steady and she closed her eyes, listening to the rhythm, “besides, I’ve technically never watched any of this show.”

“What!?” she was feeling wide awake and eagerly grabbed the remote from his hand. She paused the show and looked at him, putting a hand on his cheek, “Gwilym Lee. You’ve singlehandedly missed out on the best show of the century! We’re doing this properly – from the beginning and you’re going to watch every episode with me and only me.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” he gave her a dazzling smile, “but I’ll agree to your terms.”

“Good,” she quickly scrolling to the very first episode, “now sit back and enjoy.”

They made it through several episodes, before she felt herself grow tired with sleep. He still held onto her tightly, tracing shapes into the exposed skin on her arm, as she had laid on his chest. His long legs were tangled together with hers, and he was sure this was the most comfortable he had ever been. Having her in his arms felt righter and more natural than just about anything else.

He started to feel himself slip away, and noticed she was snoring ever so lightly. He smiled and kissed the top of her head, which caused her to stir slightly.

“Gwil?” she asked as she turned and looked up at him, glad he had stayed with her, “you’re still here.”

“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” he confessed, feeling suddenly shy under her probing gaze, “u-unless you want me to?”

“No,” she said firmly, shifting so she was looking at him completely, “stay with me.”

He reached over and grabbed her face gently, pulling her in for a soft, sweet kiss, the taste of ice cream still lingering on their lips. When he pulled away, she beamed at him and give him one last peck before laying back down and facing him, ghosting her fingers along his jawline, stopping when she reached his chest. Part of her was screaming at her to just keep going and have him ravish her, but the larger part was content with this – lying down and gently gazing into each other’s eyes. It was sweet, and it made her heart flutter to find him looking back at her with such adoration.

He draped an arm around her waist and pulled her close so their bodies were against each other, and nuzzled his face in the space between her neck and shoulder. He hummed in content, and they remained still like that for a while. It was, to put it simply, perfection.

The next morning, Y/N woke up and found herself in bed alone. She frowned at the realization that he had gone and left without saying a word. She slipped out of bed, but stopped when she heard humming and light singing coming from the kitchen. Poking her head out, she spied Gwil there, cooking away, Deacon watching him intently for any scraps of food. He must have felt her eyes on him, because he looked up and gave her a smile and a wave with his spatula.

“Good morning, darling,” he beamed as she walked over to him. He leaned across the island and gave her a gentle kiss, “hope you’re hungry!”

“You stayed,” she breathed out, still soaking it all in, “and made me breakfast?”

“I took Deacon for a walk this morning too. I had fun with the little guy,” he added liked it was no big deal, “besides, I promised you breakfast after our first…evening together, so I’m making up for it. I make good on my promises.”

“I…thank you, Gwil. That’s very kind of you,” a new weird coursed through her veins. It was a feeling of such appreciation, happiness, and gratitude. She wasn’t sure about a lot of things in life, but she was already sure about him. That was the one thing she knew. Gwilym Lee was a keeper.

Monday morning had come around way too soon. She had been sad to say goodbye to Gwil the evening before, he had stayed over at hers the rest of the day, the impending doom of the upcoming week looking over her. It meant it was back to reality from the blissful weekend she had shared with Gwil.

Putting a happy face, she walked into her empty classroom and sat at her desk, gathering her lesson plans and getting everything ready for the day. At least her students would cheer her up; they always brought a smile to her face.

A knock came at her door that pulled her out of her thoughts and she looked up to find Ben standing there, a nervous, shy smile on his face, and two coffees in his hand. She could almost cry at the sight, the simple gesture brought her so much joy, filling a bit of the hole in her heart.

“Can we stop this?” he asked quietly as she got up and quickly crossed the room, so she was standing in front of him. She looked at him, already feeling tears in her eyes as she nodded lightly, “because I miss you like crazy.”

“Benny,” she through her arms him and he hugged her back tightly, taking care not to spill the coffees, “I missed you so, so much. I’m sorry, let’s never fight again.”

“I missed you too,” he sighed happily, pulling back and handing over her coffee, “I’m sorry for how I acted. Like an arrogant fool.”

“I’m sorry too,” she agreed, clinked cup against his, “I love you, Ben, and one little fight won’t tear us apart.”

“I love you too,” Ben concurred, “but just so you know, I’m going to need the full story on everything – including this man.”

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jamielea81 · 5 years

Text

A Walk in the Park

Chapter 7

Read chapter 6 here

Description: When your husband dies in an accident, you try to move on with your life. When the memories of your shared home become too much even after two years, you make a drastic change and move to California. A new career, a new way of life, and an attractive new friend help you move on to find the happiness you need. *This will be a slow burn*

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader, Tim OFC x Reader (Face Claim - Tom Welling)

Warnings for this chapter: So much fluff! A curse word or two. Angst (Sorry not sorry).

Unbeta’d, so all mistakes are my own. This is purely for fun. Comments and reblogs give me life. Tags are open. Please send me an ask or leave a comment if you would like to be tagged.

Saturday came and went. The wedding was small but beautiful. The bride and groom had clearly invited the ones that they loved the most and those people loved them back. You may or may not have teared up during the ceremony. The bride wore a long, white, sleeveless, flowy gown that wasn’t technically a wedding dress, but it was perfect for the beach. The groom wore a crisp white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black slacks. They were both barefoot which you felt was a nice touch. It was exactly the kind of wedding you would want for yourself if you ever got married again.

That was a really big if. You weren’t sure if that’s what you even wanted. You most definitely wanted a partner in life, you and Caleb even joked about that. Nothing serious but you had told him if something had happened to you, you would want him to be happy and find love again. He said he wanted the same for you. But getting married again, you weren’t sure. You and Caleb had the big wedding. Both of your families were there including great aunts, uncles, cousins, your cousin’s children, childhood friends. You were married in your family’s church and then had a huge reception at a beautiful hall. You opted for a DJ rather than a band because you wanted particular songs played that you grew up with and meant something to you. Dinner was served table side. You had a large three-layer cake with various cupcakes encircling the cake. It was a perfect day and you wouldn’t change a thing.

You met Erika and Emma at a nail salon that also doubled as a bar. Since you needed a mani and a pedi, you figured a place that served drinks killed two birds with one stone. Since it was spring you opted for a light pink color for both your fingers and your toes.

You were sitting between both ladies with your feet currently soaking. The chair had various massage features so you were currently playing with the settings not noticing both Emma and Erika eyeing you. Once you found your ultimate relaxation mode on the massage chair, you let out a loud moan and let your head hit the back of the chair. Emma cleared her throat and you turned your head to her.

“What was with the question about Chris?”

“What do you mean?” You asked. The relaxation you just felt slowing fading.

“You know.” Erika said. You turned your head her way. “In the group chat. You asked if we hung out with Chris a lot individually.”

“Y-yeah. And?”

“That’s kind of a strange question. What’s going on? What brought on that question?” Emma asked.

Your nail techs had come at that point and you welcomed the distraction. “Could I get a vodka sour please. Heavy on the vodka.” You weren’t doing this without a drink first.

“So? What gives?” Erika asked.

You held up your hand. “Drinks first.” They both laughed and placed their orders. Your tech started to scrub your right foot and you had to strain not to kick her. This was the worst part of a pedi for you, the touching of the bottom of your feet. Besides being a head sweater, you were so damn ticklish on the bottoms of your feet, and really, everywhere else too. Your drink arrives and you try to take a sip without spilling it as the tech goes to town on your left foot now.

“Now that you have your drink, spill.” Emma says.

“It’s hard to explain.” You take a deep breath and another sip from your glass. “After game night, Chris started to text me a lot.” They both nod. “We then started to meet up almost every day and he would spend the night at my place or me at his.”

Emma gasps and Erika gives a wicked smirk.

“No. No, no. Known of that. Like we just hung out. Watched TV, movies, ate dinner, that kind of thing. Sometimes it was late and he would stay over. Just to sleep, I swear.”

“In the same bad?” Erika asks, smirk still on her face.

“Yes, but nothing happened, just sleep. Maybe a tiny bit of cuddling, but mostly with Dodger. I swear.” You say holding your hand to your heart. “And when I slept at his place, I slept in one of the spare rooms.”

“OK, well, that doesn’t seem too bad.” Emma says.

“Yeah, but Chris and I never do that. He’s never slept at my place and most certainly not in my bed. And we maybe see each other once a week, but more often than not, once every few weeks. We do text several times a week though.” Erika says.

“Same.” Emma says. “Now that you say that, it does sound like a lot.”

“But here’s the kicker. All this week, I’ve hardly heard from him. Like I’ll text and he either doesn’t get back to me at all or when he does it’s the next day and it’s a one-word answer. I haven’t seen him in a week either.” You sigh. “This would totally be fine except for the fact that previous week I saw and heard from him every day.”

“When’s the last time you saw him?” Erika asks.

“Last Saturday. He spent the night and was out of there early Sunday morning. Like, he was probably going to sneak out with out saying goodbye if I hadn’t come out of the bathroom right before he left.”

“Wait, wasn’t your coffee date with Tim on Sunday?” Emma asks.

“Ooohh.” Erika says.

You roll your eyes. “Ooohh? What does oh mean?”

“I think someone’s jealous.” You scrunch up your face and shake your head. “Hear me out. Chris spends an extraordinary amount of time with you. You guys are practically BFFs at this point. Really, practically dating from what you are saying, minus the sex.” Erika says.

“The day you have your date with Tim, he practically ghosts you.” Emma adds.

It makes sense. You can’t argue that. But he hasn’t actually ghosted you. He’s gotten back to you on a few of your texts and he let you know he’d be busy and out of town for a while. Not to forget, he doesn’t like you like that. He’s never made mention, he’s never kissed you, and he’s never asked you out. How and why would he be jealous.

“Okay. I hear you both. But. But, he doesn’t like me like that. He’s gotten back to me a few times so he hasn’t ghosted me. And did I mention he doesn’t like me like that. I don’t think Chris would have any problem going after what he wants. It just doesn’t make sense.”

They both kind of shrug and look away. You take the time to down the rest of your drink. Your pedi is finished so you all get up and head to the manicure stations. “Did I tell you Tim is cooking dinner for me tomorrow?” They both gasp and awe and you proceed to tell them your plans.

You slept in on Sunday, like really slept in. Okay, mostly you were on your phone while you laid in bed, but you didn’t get out until lunch time. Staying in bed so long helped the day to go by fast.

Tim lived about forty minutes away, so all in all, not a bad drive. You pulled into a parking lot of a tall and sleek high rise. The building couldn’t be more than a few years old. You texted him that you were there as you waited by the condo’s entrance. A few minutes later, Tim was opening the door for you as you walked in. He gave you a quick hug hello before taking your hand and leading you to the elevator. You both got in and he hit the button for the 10th floor.

“You look beautiful.” He said.

“You look pretty great yourself.” You said. You hoped your voice sounded even, but since he was still holding your hand, that’s all you could really concentrate on.

The doors to the elevator open and he leads you to his door. He opens it and gestures for you to enter. Besides the delicious aroma of roasted potatoes and beef, you notice the modern design of the unit. It’s masculine but tastefully done. Lots of grays and blacks. Large stainless-steel appliances and dark emerald counter tops make up the kitchen. The living room has a large black couch that could probably seat ten. Two dark wooden chairs with cushioned seats sit opposite the couch. A large flat screen television is mounted to the wall above a gas fire place that’s currently turned on.

“I love you space. I could spend hours on that couch watching movies and napping.” You say with a smile.

“That’s why I got.” He says throwing you a wink.

Tim did not over promise, he’s actually a great cook. You’re both too full for dessert, so you both settle for a glass of wine and make your way to the couch. It’s so large you don’t know where to sit. He’s standing waiting for you to pick a spot, so you choose the middle and plop yourself down. He sits right next to you and reaches for a remote on the coffee table. He presses a few buttons and soft instrumental music starts to play. It’s nice. It’s dark outside and the lights inside are dim drawing your eyes to the fire place. Tim sits back throwing and arm around your shoulder. You snuggle a bit closer. You like the pace this relationship or friendship, or whatever the current status is going. Tim’s a bit of a romantic and you welcome it.

“This is nice.”

“I agree. I think I would like to share more nights like this with you.” Tim says stroking your arm.

You hum in response staring into the fire. You can feel his eyes on you.

Just kiss me. I just want to feel if this is real.

You’ve cuddled and shared hugs with Chris, but it’s never like this. Not that you would mind spending nights with Chris like this, hell, you would love it. But Chris wasn’t exactly talking to let alone spending nights with you.

Stop thinking about Chris! Tim is here. Tim is sweet. Tim is gorgeous.

You turn your body a little to face him more directly. He’s looking you in the eyes with a soft smile on his face. He places his wine on the table in front of you. He takes his now free hand and gently brushes your cheek. His thumb trails down to your jaw as he starts to caress it. Your heart starts beating fast and you can’t look away from his mouth. His lips look so soft and you just want to feel them on anything other than your cheeks. He starts to lean forward and you stop breathing. You’ve been kissed by a few guys on those first and second dates that never went anywhere. But this is the first time since Caleb that you’ve really wanted to be kissed. You’re ready for this. You close your eyes and then you feel it. It’s soft and tender. Not rushed. He’s holding the kiss to see if you pull away, but you don’t. Your heart flutters and you start to move your lips. He removes the arm that’s draped over your shoulder and places his had on your other cheek. You feel him smile as he returns the kiss with a little more firmness. It’s still light. He’s not pushing, not trying to devour your mouth. Just gentle kisses. After what feels like several minutes, you pull away and place your forehead against his. He’s still holding your face. You brush your nose against his and he closes his eyes. He licks his lips and you both slowly separate. He opens his eyes and you finally breathe.

“Hi.” You say. It’s mostly breath rather than a solid word and you almost wonder if he heard it.

“Hi.” He says back. You both smile. You’re still holding your wine glass but he takes your free hand in both of his. You both sit there quietly just enjoying each other.

Sometime later you say goodbye. He walks you to your car where he kisses you again. It’s still soft and cautious, but it makes your heart flutter again.

The week moves quickly with small events early in the week. There’s a larger wedding on Saturday so you end up with a lot of office work Thursday and Friday. You’d be at the church and reception hall all day Saturday, so you welcomed staying off your feet for those two days. You’d be working the wedding with Colleen, Victoria, and Juliet, Colleen’s actual assistance. The poor woman.

You haven’t seen Tim all week, but every morning you receive a sweet text from him wishing you a good day. You both exchange selfies and you share pictures of the sunsets from your evening walks when you have them. He shares pictures of his food which makes you laugh.

You get a text Friday midmorning from Erika asking if your going to Chris’ for game night. You reply back that you didn’t know he was having game night and you thought he was out of town.

Your phone chimes again, but this time it’s the group text with Erika and Emma.

Erika: You’re coming to game night.

Emma: You’re totally invited. Why wouldn’t you go?

Y/N: Honestly guys, I wasn’t told there was a game night tonight.

Erika: And what do you mean Chris is out of town?

Emma: Wait, Chris is out of town? Why would be going to his place if he’s out of town.

Erika: *eyeroll* He’s not out of town. He’s having a game night tonight and you are coming.

Y/N: Well, he never invited me. I haven’t even talked to him in over a week.

Emma: Not at all? What the hell?

Y/N: Not at all. Not even a text.

Erika: Why do you think he’s going to be out of town?

Y/N: He sent me a text a little over a week ago saying he was going to be busy for like 3 weeks traveling. I haven’t heard from him since.

Emma: I’m tellin’ you, he’s jealous.

Y/N: You guys! He’s not jealous.

Erika: What ever you say. But your coming and I’m picking you up at 7.

Y/N: Fine. But it’s going to be awkward as shit.

Emma: Yay! See you tonight.

You tried to concentrate on work, but answering e-mails wasn’t high on your priority list right now. You texted Chris once early in the week and he never replied. Maybe he was ghosting you. Smacking your hand against your face, you threw your whole body back against your chair causing it to wheel back a bit. Why am I going tonight?! It did bother you that he had planned a party but didn’t invite you. Plus, he said he was going to be out of town!

You packed your laptop up deciding you would head home for the rest of the day. You fired a text off to Victoria telling her you would see her tomorrow.

Digging through your closet you decided on a pair of skinny jeans and floral blouse. You touched up your hair and makeup before grabbing a beer from the fridge and sinking into your couch. Before you could even drink half your beer, Erika texted that she was there. You chugged the rest of it before dropping it in your recycling bin just outside the door. Tonight, was going to be a long night.

Erika pulls up to Chris’ house and you notice a few more cars parked in front of it than last time.

“Just to warn you, I’m Ubering home.”

She gives you a look.

“I have to work tomorrow so I can’t stay late. I promise it’s not because of the whole not being invited thing.”

“Okay, okay. But you’re have a couple of drinks.”

You nod in agreement as you both get out of her car. Rather than knocking, Erika walks in and you follow close behind her. In the kitchen were Nick, Justin, Will and another guy you hadn’t met. Emma was in the living room with Tim. They both looked up to see you both walking in and Tim got to his feet. You didn’t know he would be here, but frankly you didn’t know you would be here either.

“Y/N.” He says smiling as he walks up to you. The guys in the kitchen all turn to look as Erika makes her way toward.

“Hey! You’re all healed up.” Nick yells. You give him a questioning look. “No more crutches, I see.”

“Oh yeah. All better. Sorry, it’s been a long day.”

Justin walks over handing you a beer and you gladly take it.

Tim pulls you in a hug and you pull the beer away from him so that you don’t spill it, but hug him back with your free arm.

“I didn’t know you’d be here. When you didn’t mention coming, I figured you had to work.”

“I didn’t plan on it, but those two made me come.” You pointed at Emma and Erika who both looked offended. You didn’t want to tell Tim you weren’t invited and have it be a whole thing.

“Yeah, I didn’t think I’d make it, but I the interview got completed early.”

As part of the studio’s public relations team, Tim often had tag along to interviews his clients had. While he found that aspect of the job a little boring, you loved hearing about it.

You heard his laugh before you saw him. Chris had walked into the kitchen from some other room in the house. He was with an attractive petite woman who was smiling up at him with her hand resting on his arm as they walked. Her other hand was playing in long dark hair. Was that jealous you felt; you weren’t sure.

“Erika! Glad you finally decided to show up.” Chris says pulling her into a hug. You were still by the front door with Tim’s arm around your waist.

“Yeah, well, this one slowed me down.” She says pointing to you. A payback comment from when you accused her of dragging you here. You nervously start to drinking your beer taking a long drink from the bottle as Chris’ eyes slowly meet yours.

He gives you a slight wave. “Hey Y/N. Great to see you.”

You’re crushed. No hug. No warm welcome. He is pushing you away and it hurts.

“Hi.” You wave back with the beer in your hand. He’s attention is now back on the mystery woman. You pull away from Tim and start to walk over to the couch taking a seat. Tim joins you followed by Emma. She gives you a knowing look, squeezing your shoulder before she takes a seat.

You hear Chris introducing the mystery woman to Erika. Even though he hasn’t introduced you to her or vice versa, you hear that her name is Joanna. She’s cute and you can see her and Chris together but you’re far too bitter right now to have those types of logical thoughts. Tim is here. Be happy that Tim is here. Think of his kisses. Okay, you’re better.

Tim throws his arm over your shoulder and pulls you to him. You instantly relax and concentrate on the feel of his hand moving slowly up and down your arm.

Will and Justin have turned on the PS4 and are playing some sort of military ops game. You watch for a bit, while enjoying your beer. Emma slaps your knee, startling you out of your haze.

“Shots!” She says. She stands up and starts walking to the kitchen. You finish your beer and look at Tim.

“Are you coming?” You ask.

“Nah, I’m going stay and watch. Besides, as soon as one of them dies, I’m in.” He throws you a wink.

Your arms encircle his waste while leaning your head on his shoulder. He kisses your temple twice before you let go and stand up taking your bottle with you to throw out. Chris is cutting up limes while Emma is pouring shots of tequila. Erika’s speaking to Joanna about some band but you aren’t paying enough attention to catch which one. Now’s your chance to try to talk to Chris, so you approach him and lean forward so that his eye catches you.

“Hey you.”

“Hey Y/N.”

“How’s work been?”

“Work? It’s just mostly interviews.”

You nod your head and just stand silently watching as he slices the limes.

“Are you ready with those limes Evans?” Emma asks.

“Yeah, yeah. Your limes are ready.” He replies as he carries the cutting board over to the island where the shots are lined up.

He doesn’t even look at you. Part of you just wants to leave right now. You’re staring at him so intently that if anyone else were to notice, they’d feel uncomfortable. He looks up, face straight and you can’t get a read on him, but you’re doing the same. Emma slides a shot glass over to you breaking your gaze. You lick the back of your hand. Joanna takes the salt shaker sprinkling some on you.

“Hi. I’m Joanna.”

“Y/N.” You say. You offer her a small smile.

Emma clinks her shot glasses against everyone’s letting out a ‘wohoo’. You, Nick, Joanna, Erika, and Chris do the same, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. You lick the salt, throw back the shot, slam the glass back down on the counter and reach for a lime to throw in your mouth. “It’s like I’m back in college!” You giggle. Emma laughs and pulls you into a one arm hug. “Another!” You shout while throwing your hands in the air.

Emma pours another round but only she, Joanna, Erika, and you partake. I don’t have to be up that early tomorrow. You grab one of the shots the boys skipped out on and down it.

You see Erika watching you so you send her a wink. She motions with her hand for you to follow her out on the patio. You step outside, the cool air feels wonderful against your warm skin. You both take a seat on the cushioned lounge chairs on the patio. Dodger comes bounding up to you. You were so concerned with Chris you completely forgot about your cuddle buddy. He’s excited, jumping up and down vying for your attention. You go into full baby talk mode rubbing his fur and accepting puppy kisses as soon as they were thrown at you.

“What’s going on tonight, Y/N?” You keep stroking Dodger but look up and give her a shrug.

“You were right. He’s ghosting me.” She sighs and quirks one side of her mouth into a small smile. “He won’t even look at me, Erika. I haven’t talked to him in awhile and he can barely say two words to me. I really feel like I’m not over reacting here.”

“You aren’t. Something’s going on there, I just don’t know what.”

“Tim is great. Things are going well. He’s a great kisser by the way.” Your face heats up and you see her grinning. “But I can’t get Chris out of my mind. There’re feelings there. Even if they aren’t mutual.” You voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t know it was possible to like two guys at the same time. This isn’t me.” You sink down in your seat with your elbows resting on your knees, hands holding your face. “What would Caleb think of me?” She gets up charging toward you.

“You stop that right now. You aren’t doing anything wrong.” She’s rubbing your back and you start to take deep breaths. Tears are prickling in your eyes. “You’re allowed to develop feelings, Y/N. You’re allowed to be confused about what you want. And Chris is being a giant asshole.” You let out a dry laugh and start to wipe the tears from your eyes.

“I just didn’t expect to have these feelings. And I really didn’t expect Chris to treat me the way he has. Even if this is just a crush and he has no interest in me, I don’t want to lose my friend Erika. More than anything, I want my friend back.” The tears have come out in full force and are streaming down your face. You’re sure your eye makeup is shot. She pulls you up by your hand and throws her arms around you in a tight embrace. You hear the patio door open and you both look up. Chris is gawking at your both with his mouth agape.

“What’s going on out here?” He asks.

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