iknowthekoolaidflavor

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

Spoiled

Summary: Tensions boil over on the Thanksgiving trip to New Orleans.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,060

Warnings: Smut (18+ content)

Previous: Sorry 2024

“Where’s Treece?” 

Terry couldn’t care less but entertained the question for his mother’s sake as he took the seat closest to the window at their reserved table for a late breakfast. 

“In the room pouting,” He grumbled with his annoyed glare focused solely on the breakfast menu. “She’ll be down eventually. Or not. I don’t know or care.”

Marvin chuckled over his mug of coffee. “I’m not all that convinced, son, but I’ll let you have it.” 

As much as they were lovers, Terry and Patrice were friends who bickered like siblings. Petty back and forths reared their ugly heads at inopportune moments, leading to heated, silent arguments. A refusal to raise their voices at each other out of respect resulted in hushed whispers and sarcastic jabs that were so ridiculous to those not involved that Terry’s parents often referred to them as live telenovelas. 

Their latest episode was the most trivial to date. 

Separate families stationed in conflicting parts of the country forced the newest Richmond couple to compromise on how they split their holiday schedule. With a family known for their culinary pursuits, Terry naturally claimed Thanksgiving for his side. Although she couldn’t bear the thought of missing her Nana’s fresh apple pie, Patrice compromised with the caveat that their New Year’s plans were neutral ground for them and them alone. Handshake and lip lock agreements set them on a path to plan for the final six weeks of the year. 

For all of his careful planning, Terry didn’t anticipate how his wife’s commitment to the pupils under her care would collide with his plans to spend extended time in New Orleans. 

“Baby, it’s just two days.” He explained to Patrice while he helped clear the table after dinner one evening. “I’ll get you on the first flight out Wednesday morning. Promise.” 

“I know, but still. I’m gonna miss you. We’re not apart that often.” 

“We’ll make it worth the wait once you get there.” 

Repeated promises to steal some alone time once reunited preceded quick kisses as Terry prepared to join his parents and siblings on a flight early Monday morning. But, once the sun set on their first day apart in months, loneliness and frustration set in for Patrice. Text messages slowed to a creep. Sparse voice notes attempted to fill the void left in their near-silent home. She wasn’t mad at Terry for enjoying time with his loved ones. She was pissed at herself for being so lovesick that her stomach churned. Sickening. This type of yearning was sickening.

Excitement took a backseat to unshakeable irritability on her solo flight to the Big Easy on Wednesday morning. No hugs, kisses, or meaningful conversation for 48 hours could send even the most solitary person over the edge. Terry sent messages in droves to share his excitement for her arrival and she fought the urge to snap back at him. His smiling face greeting her at the hotel’s front entrance briefly soothed her ire until the reality that they couldn’t shake his family’s company set in. 

Every private conversion came with an intrusion. Kisses meant to go further than a quick peck were interrupted before they could start. Attempts at sneaking away never came to fruition. Soon, Patrice’s sour attitude became Terry’s disposition. He knew his anger was misdirected, but couldn’t find the words to explain his annoyance. 

They didn’t speak before bed Wednesday night and barely looked at each other Thursday morning. One angry Richmond was enough. Two made everyone uncomfortable. 

“It’s time for breakfast, Treece.” What Terry intended as an innocent reminder came out as a gruff bark that he couldn’t take back before Patrice opened her mouth to respond. 

“I know! I can see the time!” 

“Then hurry up!” 

“Fuck it! I’ll eat by myself!” 

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

Their silly exchange ended with Terry tossing the second hotel key on the bed before he stomped out of the room, allowing the door to slam behind him. 

The moment replayed in his head as he scanned the menu for something they could share in case she made her way out of self-imposed solitary confinement. 

“Well, I hope she makes it down. I wanted her to try a few things,” DeeDee added, unaware that the entire conversation was pushing her son to his limits. “The French toast is something.” 

Terry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, if you can get her off the third floor, do whatever you please.”

“She’s probably happy to have you out of her back pocket. My girl can’t catch a break,” Zorah teased. 

Zanah laughed and shook her head. “You haven’t seen Patrice. I swear she was trying to climb into his skin when the elevator doors opened last night. They’re equally insane.” 

“See what happens when you end up in grown folks’ business?” 

“Oh, please.” 

Zanah childishly stuck out her tongue and received a middle finger pulled out of his hoodie’s front pocket as a prize for her antics. 

“Stop it, you two.”

“I thought when y’all became adults all this shit would slow up,” Marvin groaned, shaking his head as his two stubborn children traded schoolyard insults just short of joking about each other’s mama. Movement in his periphery offered what he hoped was a change of pace. “Oh thank God. The guest of honor is here.”

Patrice offered a weak wave and smile upon her approach, hoping they couldn’t see the remnants of a frustrated cry on her face. Terry could, though. He flashed her a concerned look and she answered with eyes that begged him not to inquire further. A round of hugs and greetings sent her to the empty seat across from her husband. 

The friction between them was palpable. They didn’t extend each other the luxury of pet names and googly-eyed grins like they normally would. Time spent canoodling was replaced by stolen glances and tight-lipped requests to pass over utensils. 

DeeDee cleared her throat for their attention. “Um, hi. Mom checking in here. Is there a problem between you two that we should be aware of?” 

“No,” Patrice answered loud enough to eclipse whatever Terry attempted to share. “We’re fine. James is not feeling very affectionate this morning for reasons unknown, but we’re fine outside of that. Right, James? Just fine, huh?”

“Peachy. Nicole is throwing a tantrum over God knows what but Nicole refuses to say more than three words to me at a time, so, while I love Nicole, I will not spend my morning chasing her around because Nicole is not a child and can use her words.”

Terry’s rant came through gritted teeth, leaving him almost out of breath as he neared the end. 

Patrice couldn’t formulate a rebuttal despite wanting to take their spat to the next level. She could only hang on to the firmness in his tone, the words sounding more like a warning than an explanation for their distance. Terry caught the flicker of something mischievous in her eyes and how she slowly crossed her legs beneath the table before grazing her foot against his clothed calf. His frown faltered for a moment. An unspoken understanding was telepathically communicated.

Four sets of eyes stared back at the standoff in utter confusion. 

Zanah took a loud sip of water to snap them out of their trance. “Oh-kay. So, I was thinking about gettin’ this crawfish omelet. Daddy, you oughta get the quesadilla so I can get a piece of that and, Zo, you get the Benny.” 

“But I don’t wanna share my food with you.” 

“Zorah! We are twins. We share!”

Chatter about seafood dressing and late-night spades tournaments planned for the rest of the day swirled around Terry and Patrice as they maintained senseless anger, too committed to the misunderstanding to relent without feeling embarrassed. 

The quiet simmer of mixed emotions followed them after tabs were paid, cocktails were consumed, and the elevator lifting them to the third floor was emptied of spectating parties. Terry pretended to type into his phone while sneaking looks at the way Patrice’s ass sat up in her leggings. 

“You wanna talk when we get in or what?” 

Patrice turned to look over her shoulder. “We can.” Her eyes caught the slow lick of his bottom lip before flickering back up to find him already watching her. “If you want.” 

“Good. I’m tired of the attitude.” 

“Great because I’m tired of yours.”

Having a civil discussion became a background thought once the soft buzz and click of their room door put them seconds away from the privacy they so desperately craved. 

Terry covertly slid the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the outside handle before double-checking the deadbolt lock and metal latch. Patrice busied herself with the television remote, turning a rerun of CSI: Miami up to a reasonable volume. Just enough to drown out an explosive meeting of minds or bodies. 

“Ready?” Terry questioned as he pulled his hoodie up, then over his head to deposit it on the back of the nearby desk chair. “We only have an hour or so before we need to head out.” 

“I think we can settle this pretty quick. Don’t you?” 

“Depends. I got a lot to say.”

They watched each other step out of their shirts, socks, and pants, still pretending that some relationship chat was on the other side of their time together. 

Down to thin layers of underwear and insatiable desire, they met for skin-to-skin contact. Patrice set a pace that only Terry could match. Frantic hands gripped broad shoulders to hike one long leg around his waist. Heavy hands found a home beneath round ass for a full sensory experience. 

Patrice pulled away from a messy kiss for a deep enough breath to bark instructions at her phone for a 15-minute timer. The race was on. Friction would either bring a resolution or be why they found common ground. 

Words were hard to come by during a hungry heavy-petting period. Shared breaths and wandering hands communicated every need, peeling away the last barriers that kept them separated. Touch me like this. Kiss me there. I need you here. 

Soon, the itchy hotel carpet pressed into the delicate skin of Patrice’s knees while she looked up at a clenched jaw and flexed abs. She wanted to feel him grow to all of his glory inside her mouth, and he was happy to oblige her request. A fist full of knotless braids kept Terry feeling like he had control of the situation, though they both knew the truth. 

Gagging and gawking provided a filthy auditory masterpiece that he hoped to remember for as long as he lived. Curses meant as praise fueled her performance as she pressed crescent moons into his thighs to remain stable. Her lash extensions drooped under the weight of alligator tears. Her jaw ached from being stretched to capacity over and over. Her thighs burned from her kneeling position. None of the discomforts could deter her from the goal. 

Terry gently placed a warm palm on Patrice’s cheek, admiring her work with a hazy smile. “Missed me, huh?” he breathed out, earning a grin. 

“Mhmmm.”

“I missed you, too. Come here.”

“Missed” was an understatement. A flat-out lie. He was just as needy, just as excited to be inside her, just as ready to abandon demure social norms to unleash the lust and love brewing inside as she was. 

An indescribable pleasure emerged from using and being used. No holds barred. Unrestrained aside from muffled groans unleashed into crisp white pillowcases and skin slick with fresh sweat. 

Terry kept Patrice’s chest pressed into the bed with one hand splayed between her shoulder blades and the other tangled at her roots. She fisted the sheets to keep a grip on the bed and reality while her eyes went in and out of focus. An open mouth produced choked squeaks between sharp breaths. She listened to her name roll from her lover’s lips like a sonnet written just for her. 

He was close. His body tensed with every stroke. Sweet talk broke into throaty groans. Hips lost their rhythm as they sought deeper connection. It was a good angle, but Patrice knew it could be better. It had to get better. This had to be worth it. Who knew when they’d have the chance to fuck each other senseless in the city they made their first commitment to rekindle an almost forgotten flame?

“Let me see you,” Patrice moaned, her head turned just enough to get Terry’s attention. “Please. I wanna see your face.” 

Exhausted limbs shifted and reconnected at the head of the bed, dragging linens along with them. Patrice propped her body on one elbow to shorten the distance between their faces before pulling Terry into a kiss by the back of his head. He was equally tender and possessive, leading with full lips and a tongue eager to taste the remnants of juice and syrup left inside her mouth. 

Then came fingers. Patrice replaced her swollen lips with her middle and ring digits in search of lubrication for other pursuits. The dull ache between her legs needed concentrated attention to reach the promised land. Terry didn’t need further direction. He did as he was told with a gaze just playful enough to convey that he knew what was up. He couldn’t wait to witness what she had in store. 

Their foreheads pressed together as they focused on the slow, lazy circles Patrice drew on her pearl. Terry added his contribution according to her pace, drawing in and out so dazed that he wouldn’t have been able to repeat his name if prompted. 

His brow furrowed to match his effort. “Fuckin’ beautiful.” 

He meant his compliment for his wife though he spoke the words to the body responsible for his glee in the moment. She giggled and threw her head back like a cowgirl to enjoy the ride.

Terry readjusted his angle to chase her lips as a familiar tingle set in. His arms hooked one leg at the bend of her knee before pressing forward on one hand for leverage to drive faster. Harder. 

They were close again, each chasing an individual high harder and faster than before. 

Patrice tried to play innocent as her sultry voice egged him on with seemingly innocuous statements. “You’re so good to me, baby. What did I do to deserve you, hm?”

He tried to slow down, tried to prolong the moment despite his hips driving forward with more and more power. Patrice licked and kissed the shell of his ear to egg him on. 

“Don’t hold back, Terrence. I’m all yours.”

A whimper escaped past his lips before a simple concession speech. “Oh…fuck.”

An unraveling. Muffling broken words against lips curled into a triumphant smile, Terry came undone with his eyes clamped shut to see colors dance behind closed lids. Her orgasm crashing in wasn’t enough for Patrice to break eye contact. She stared back the entire time, mouth opened and eyes transfixed in a devious stare under low eyelids. She didn’t want to miss a moment of his chest heaving, arms tensing, and hips bucking to deliver her the perfect body high she could get without drugs. Earth-shattering, thigh-quaking releases had their place, no doubt. They could never replace the sensation of falling more in love with every electric shockwave brought forth by the love of her life. 

Terry floated back into reality feeling lightheaded, stress-free, and searching for sweet kisses to cap off filthy deeds. 

“Baby, you’re a real pain in my ass, you know that?” he joked before pressing three quick pecks to Patrice’s lips. “Spoiled and gorgeous.”

She giggled along with him. “If that’s true, why haven’t I been able to get rid of you yet.”

“Because I like you like that. You think I do all this for you to be normal?” 

Light laughter and yet another round of theme song guitar synths rang out as they disconnected and found rest cuddled atop crumpled sheets. Patrice shifted to place her chest on top of Terry’s and traced her index finger along his beautiful cheekbones. 

“We’re playing with fire, TJ. I know you got the notification about this week being risky.”

“Don’t act like I was the one throwing a tantrum this morning.” 

“A tantrum is strong, okay! A tiny meltdown, maybe.” The sudden ring of her long-forgotten alarm cut their laughter short and drew attention to the nightstand. “Right on time.” Patrice stretched across Terry to handle the distraction, drawing his physical attention as he caressed and dropped kisses along her hip. She came back to him and kissed both of his lips separately. “Sorry for being a bitch. I’m working on it.”

“Ask for what you want next time. It’s yours. I’m yours,” He answered as he pushed a few stray braids over her shoulder.

“Use my words?” 

“Use your words.”

“I need more kisses. Or I'll melt. You wouldn't let me melt, right?”

Amorous feelings were back on the rise as they shared a slow, relaxed kiss unfit for two people on a tight schedule. 

Patrice pulled a way first to nuzzle her nose against Terry’s. “D’you wanna shower with me? It’s okay if you don’t. I just…need to spend a little more time together.”

She was bashful, almost refusing to look him in the face as if asking him to bathe together was somehow more revealing than what they’d just shared.��

“Not too hot on the water, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

Terry chuckled as another kiss and loose instructions sent Patrice on her way with a giddy hop in her step. He listened to her make arrangements in the bathroom while he made the room more like somewhere to sleep and not ground zero of a natural disaster. 

He placed clothes in neat stacks, straightened items that took a tumble in the heat of the moment and piled dirty sheets in the middle of their bed. When all was complete, he took a seat to contact the front desk. 

“Hey, could we get some fresh sheets later today? Room 335.” Patrice calling for him from the shower made him smile against the receiver. “Sure, extra towels too. Yes ma’am. I appreciate it.” 

Thank God for housekeeping. In one hour the room would return to pristine condition for another romp or relaxation. A night of good food and better drinks would decide their fate for them.

-------

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @hrlzy @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl @ariiijestertheklown @blyffe @tvchi @wabi-sabi1090 @blackmoonchilee

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

I LOVE this 🥰❤️

freedom of the press 09 | t. jefferson

words: 13.5k

warnings: sex

desc: the 2020 republican presidential frontrunner is an obnoxious, morally bankrupt people-pleaser, but what happens when you become the person he’s most eager to please?

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @distinguishedpotsticker @fukaaaaaaaa @hereforthepsyche-assessment @ivetoldamillionlies @fangirl570 @thealaddinkid @lasciviouspeach @snazzydoesthings @shy-and-awkward-daveed @rachelhermionerose @soft-weeb-s @gryffinclxw @anamrnk @daveeddiggsit @ayayayayana @marinovakovich @cryinghazelnutt @thefandomgirl03 @a-hopeless-fan @cloudynblw @tinywhim @lolidunnoaboutnow @siriusorionblackiii @fanfic-addict-98 @nyxie75 @i-know-i-can @yxseminx @yavin4andor @sugacita @sstrawberry-fanta @youtxbemusic @queenwilty @someinsanefangirl @foudre-aqua @whatevs2000 @rwr-ites @maxi-ride @moose-on-the-l00se @itshaileyn @toxicidity @malos-moving @luckyfriesss @lovecass123

THOMAS HAD WOKEN up feeling sick.

At first, he couldn't place the reason. He'd been drinking enough water and taking his multivitamins, he hadn't eaten anything bad (as far as he knew), and despite what Lafayette thought, he hadn't been drinking.

It was only when he pulled himself out of bed that the prior night’s events caught up with him, the information surfing on the fresh wave of nausea that rolled over him as he stood. When he glanced over at his mirror, the face staring back looked bedraggled and gaunt.

He powered his phone off immediately after checking the time when he was met with a screen full of texts from the last person he wanted to hear from; he dragged himself through his morning routine in a haze as his thoughts spiraled, inventing increasingly creative stories for how he’d ended up at that point. Who had given the interview? What else had she been lying about?

"I got a lot more attached to you than I meant to, alright?"

What finally broke him out of his stupor was a knock at the door at half past three P.M. He cupped a hand around his mouth to check his breath; he hadn’t had anything to eat but coffee, but he was grateful to have convinced himself to take a shower and brush his teeth.

When he opened the door, Thomas furrowed his brow. “Lafayette?”

“I ‘ave come with food and cigarettes.”

“I don’t smoke cigarettes.”

“Y/N told me what happened.” His discerning gaze made Thomas hold his tongue, wavering on his intention to tell Lafayette to kick rocks. “I did not think you would want to be alone, and I assumed zat you could use a cigarette.”

When Lafayette raised his eyebrows expectantly, Thomas sighed.

“Alright, c’mon in. Can't have you stay long, though; ‘m busy getting ready for my rally tomorrow.” He stepped aside to let Lafayette by, and he started toward the kitchen as Thomas locked the door behind him.

“I am sorry to hear what happened.”

“What exactly did she tell you?”

“Zat she hurt you,” Lafayette said simply, and Thomas’s eyebrows shot up. “She told me that her editor has ze article about your past and that she told you about it. I hear you did not take it well.”

“Oh, gimme a goddamn break,” Thomas snapped. “How the hell am I supposed to take the news that the person I’m seein’ has been planning to tell the whole world I was an alcoholic?”

“Poorly. There is no other way to take it.” He put the bag he carried on Thomas’s counter and started withdrawing styrofoam boxes. “Why do you think I am here? I am on your side. And I ordered southern American food. I did not know much about it, so I ordered one of everything.”

“One of everything?” Thomas repeated curiously, reaching for a box, and Lafayette nodded. Thomas’s eyes widened when he opened it. “That’s a lotta macaroni ‘n cheese.”

“I also have fried chicken, grilled asparagus, waffles, shrimp and grubs—”

“Shrimp ‘n grits?”

“—Collard greens, cornbread, and something called a ‘hushed puppy.’”

“You didn’t need to come here ‘n do all that, Laf.” Thomas’s demeanor had softened considerably as Lafayette had withdrawn his many containers of food, laying them out on the counter. “‘S awful sweet, but I’m doin’ fine. I’m pissed, but I’ve handled a whole lotta abuse from the press already this campaign cycle.”

“Not like this, and not from her." At Lafayette's knowing look, Thomas appeared perturbed. "You may lie to yourself all you want, but you cannot lie to me about zis. I see it. I see ze two of you together, and I cannot imagine zis being anything like what you have experienced with ze media before.”

Thomas hesitated, not meeting his eyes, but as he stared down at the boxes of greasy takeout, his gaze was unfocused.

“Yeah,” Thomas finally said, pulling open a drawer to withdraw two forks. “I didn’t expect this from her. Thought she had more integrity than that.”

“Try, just for a moment, to understand ze dilemma she faces.”

His skeptical gaze shot to Lafayette. “Thought you said you didn’t come here to defend her.”

“I did not, but I do not know zat zis is a question of her integrity,” Lafayette reasoned. “Someone is out there giving interviews with ze press about your past with alcohol addiction. If she does not write zis article, someone else will.”

“She shoulda come directly to me about it, then. I coulda got out in front of it.”

“You still can, and you still should,” he said, “but her job is to write about you. She hasn’t betrayed anything you’ve shared with her in confidence, she simply interviewed someone with much to say about your past.”

“Yeah, till the article comes out and it’s everything I told her about Martha,” Thomas said cynically.

“The article does not mention Martha. It makes no reference to any past lover or to your engagement.”

“I can’t take her at her word on that anymore,” Thomas said incredulously. “Be serious, she’s gonna do whatever she wants with what she knows.”

“I can assure you, it does not even offer an implication. I ‘ave read it, Thomas.”

“You’ve read it?” His voice was stunned, and he froze as he was opening a container of food. “How long have you known about this?”

“Not much longer than you. After she wrote it, she came to me for guidance.”

“And you didn’t tell her to shut it down?”

“I advised against her publishing it, but she is not ze editor of ze Post. I am not sure how long zat remains in her power for. So I told her to talk to you.”

“Yeah, ‘n look where that got us,” Thomas grumbled, and Lafayette sighed.

“Would you not rather know?”

“I’d rather you told me the goddamn minute you found out about it,” he snapped. “God, I’ve known you for years; where the hell’s your loyalty? A pretty girl walks into the scene and all of a sudden I take a back seat?”

"You know zat is not what zis is," Lafayette shot back. “Oui, she is my friend, but I refrained from coming to you about this because I know zat she cares about you. And you care about her, so you should understand why I wanted to give her ze chance to make things right."

"Oh, please. Don't come here telling me she cares and didn't mean to hurt me." His voice was sharp and dismissive. "She knows what this article's about. She knows what she's doing."

“She is under pressure you do not understand.”

“I think I understand just fine. She’s got priorities; she’s got a career, ‘n that comes before me. Shoulda realized how far that went, but I didn’t. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“She does not have security in the way that you do, Thomas,” Lafayette reminded him. “She works two jobs and still has problems with paying her bills. She cannot afford to lose zis job.”

“She's got plenty of people she could stay with while she found another.”

“So you think zat you should be more important zan her income?” he challenged. Thomas didn't respond, only frowned. “She should be quitting her job to delay her source finding a journalist willing to publish zis story?”

“I don't mean it like that.” His frustrated voice had grown quieter. “She shoulda never let it get this far, though. She could've lied to her editor about the interview ‘n never written the article.”

“Her manager knew she was interviewing someone. What would she have written about after?”

“I don't know, alright?” His words came as an outburst, and they were followed by a huff. He continued, voice softer, “I don't know what she shoulda done. All I know is this wasn't the right answer. Y'know what she told me? Said she cared too much about me to know how to write about me, and that she got too close. But none of that stopped her from writing this, so I dunno what to believe anymore. Nobody who cared would try ‘n air this out.”

“The way she writes about it is not flippant.” Lafayette's gentle tone matched Thomas’. “She writes about you as someone who ‘as succeeded in the face of struggle, not as someone who chose a life of vices.”

“I don't wanna hear it anymore, Laf. You oughta leave if you're just here to defend her. We both know that, no matter what you say about it, telling voters a presidential candidate was an alcoholic is a nail in the coffin.”

“For whatever it is worth, I see you as someone who ‘as overcome great animosity against all odds,” Lafayette offered. Thomas shot him a sidelong glance as he closed the container of macaroni and cheese. “Truly. You have everything to be proud of. Regardless of how people may react to zis, do not forget all zat you have done to become who you are today.”

“Thanks,” Thomas said weakly. “I can only hope the voters are gonna see it that way.”

“If you do not win this election, you will still forever be who you are.” Lafayette's words made Thomas purse his lips as he reached for the small plastic container of gravy sitting atop the tin of mashed potatoes. “Remember that your whole life has not been leading up to this moment; it will continue on after it regardless of the outcome.”

A long silence passed as Thomas stared down at the gravy, visible through the barely-opaque white plastic. A dent was forming in the styrofoam container he'd placed it onto as he held it in his tense hand. The styrofoam tore, and he snapped back to the kitchen.

“I know,” he finally said. “But I do appreciate the reminder.”

“I trust that you will keep yourself reasonable throughout this election cycle. You are a smart man.”

“And if I don't, that's what I've got you for.” The smile he gave Lafayette was weak but wholehearted. “Now, we've got a whole lotta food here. You gonna hang around and help me eat it all?”

“I thought you said you needed to prepare for your rally tomorrow,” Lafayette said hesitantly, and Thomas shrugged.

“I think I could use the distraction. ‘N they just put Jurassic Park on Netflix.”

“I am glad to hear it. I cleared my calendar before I came over; I would hate for it to ‘ave been for nothing.”

Thomas' laugh was surprisingly earnest. “Would it be too on-the-nose to break out the bourbon for the occasion?”

“As someone who has written no articles about you lately, I cannot imagine why it would be.”

—---------

GIVEN WHAT SHE had told him, Thomas couldn't break his pace campaigning. He went through with his rally the next day and appeared at a nonprofit-sponsored event the day after as the keynote speaker. He shook hands and took selfies, kissed babies and signed foreheads. He politely declined one woman's request to sign her breasts as a stencil for her next tattoo.

He was playing his role as a media darling the way he always had, blithely and jovially, and his numbers were up in the polls. (James was telling him so, at least; he'd stopped checking for fear of seeing how far they might drop.) Part of that, however, was keeping the Washington Post far from his events. Regardless of who at the Post filed for press admittance, they weren't coming, and he was making sure of that himself. Besides, he had enough coverage.

He was waiting quite patiently for the other shoe to drop as he buttressed his image, though, checking Twitter between podcast interviews and university appearances. He'd become quite sly about sneaking glances at his phone as it poked just a degree out of his pocket, but all he ever saw were texts he had no intention of answering and DMs on Twitter that conferred Y/N's assumption that he'd blocked her number. James had caught on, however, to how preoccupied Thomas was. He would trail off in the middle of a sentence when he noticed his averted gaze, and he watched his eyes glaze over when interviewers made small talk before his appearances, and Thomas caught his skeptical gaze on many occasions. Thomas averted his eyes quickly when he did so.

Nothing damning ever crossed the headlines, and Thomas, too, began to realize he was operating on borrowed time. He wasn't sure how much time he'd borrowed, and he wasn't sure how much he'd have to give back. Neither realization was a relief. It only built his anticipation for the weeks that followed, and he grew more scattered and more concerned about what was to come until—

“Thomas.”

His head snapped up at the stern sound of James’ voice. It was a tone usually reserved for Charles Lee and his father, and Thomas had a hunch as to why he was hearing it just then.

“We need to talk.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He was in his office at the space they were leasing for their campaign headquarters, a dingy old building that may have been considered glamorous in the early ‘70s, but its interior had never been renovated, so it now simply looked dated. James took a seat across from him.

“Where the hell has your head been at for the past couple weeks?”

“What do you mean?” He answered a little too quickly, and James narrowed his eyes.

“You're always on your phone. Even when you're making appearances in public, you're not entirely there, and in meetings, you definitely aren't. Something is obviously up.”

Thomas narrowed his eyes. “What're you accusing me of?”

James looked taken aback. “Nothing. I'm asking: I can tell something happened, but what? I want to know if you're okay.”

“You wanna know if I'm okay?”

“Yes. Of course I do,” he said, frowning, and Thomas’ creased brow softened a degree. “We've been friends for years. I'm worried about you, not upset.”

“Right, yeah. ‘Course.” Thomas dragged a hand through his curls as he took a deep breath, not meeting James’ gaze. “Sorry. ‘M just stressed.”

“I can tell.”

“I learned somethin’ last week that's bad for us. Bad for me, really, but it's a problem for our campaign if it pans out, y’know?” His words were agitated and scattered, and when he finally looked James in the eye, he sighed. “A friend in the press told me there's somebody out there giving interviews about my history as an alcoholic. Sounds like they claim to know more than they really do, but at any point now, that information might come out.”

“I see.” James’ lips were pursed. “Would that friend happen to be Y/N L/N?”

Thomas frowned. “Yeah. Why?”

He hesitated, looking down as he collected his thoughts. Slowly, he said, “You two seem quite close in a way that concerns me. Is there anything I should know about that?”

Thomas’ stomach had curdled. “Nah, I mean… Dunno what you mean, really. She's just a professional contact.”

“And the dynamic between you two at work events? Your choice to rent out the restaurant she works at for a rally?”

“Hey, I've been goin’ to that restaurant for a whole lot longer than she's been workin’ there.”

“That's beside the point.”

“I dunno if it is.”

“Thomas. Be straight with me.” James eyed his stiff shoulders and the way he sat rigidly upright in his chair; his stance was unnatural. “You're communicating with her outside of professional channels, and you aren't taking the things you learn straight back to us. Frankly, it's unprofessional of you.”

Thomas eyed him with a knit brow, trying to keep his surprise peripheral. “I… Yeah, sorry. Shoulda communicated better.”

“And why didn't you? Something about Y/N L/N seems to cloud your judgment, and I'm not sure where that's coming from.”

He'd have to remind himself to thank Dolley for her discretion. “Dunno what to tell you. We haven't really been communicating, it's just this, ‘n I've been distracted cause I don't know what to do about the interview somebody's been givin’ about me. You don't have to worry, either; we're not friends, ‘n she's not gonna be around in the future.”

James furrowed his brow. “What does that mean?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but it took him a moment to collect the words, “Just haven't seen her at our events. Her assignment must've changed.”

“...Right.”

As they looked across Thomas’ desk at one another, neither had the heart to note all the media inquiries he'd declined from the Post in the preceding weeks.

—--

Y/N WASN'T HAVING the time of her life either. In the weeks that followed, every media request she submitted was painstaking, wrenched from her hands by her manager and laced with shame and anxiety. She was having increasing trouble justifying why finding a reliable source for her article was giving her so much trouble, but her countless declined media requests had been giving her an easier out.

The closest she came to him for several weeks was his open speaking events—rallies, cocktail hours, fundraisers and the like—despite her numerous texts and calls. She even managed to get James’ and Lafayette's ears on a couple different occasions, but the only person who gave her the time of day was Dolley. Even then, in contrast to James’ and Lafayette's dismissal, all she received was passive pity. She'd asked her how she'd liked the Pacific Northwest — that was where Thomas’s campaign had led them most recently.

“Oh, you know. Lots of rain.” Dolley’s words were accompanied with a sad smile. “I'm glad to be back on the east coast, I suppose.”

“Would you really consider DC to be the east coast?”

She only shrugged. “Maybe not. But all the same, it's good to be home.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Sorry campaigning hasn't been all it's cracked up to be.”

“No, no, it's been fine. Don't worry about me, dear. How… how have you been, though?”

Y/N's hopeful expression froze, and although Dolly's was unchanged, she couldn't help but feel that something had shifted. She swallowed as she regained her warm smile.

“I've been good, Doll. Working lots of hours, but nothing too terrible.”

“Good, good. I haven't seen you at too many campaign events recently, you know.”

“Right, well. Traveling that far would just be a bit of an ordeal.”

“Of course.” Dolley touched Y/N's arm as she glanced over her shoulder. “I really can't linger, but it is good to see you. I hope you've been taking care of yourself through everything.”

“Through everything?”

Again, Dolley shrugged. “All the hours you've been working. I imagine it doesn't allow much time for you to rest.”

“Right, yeah, no, for sure.” Y/N shook her head quickly, offering a light laugh. “For sure. I've been fine.”

“Right.” Her smile was tight. “I do hope I'll see you around.”

Y/N was doing her best not to read into Dolley's words, but they occasionally floated to the forefront of her mind on her commute to work and in the shower. She couldn't help but dwell on the hesitant way she asked how she'd been as she sat at her computer redrafting articles. She couldn't gauge the sincerity in her voice when she said she'd hoped to see her around.

She found Lafayette no more than a week later, and it appeared he'd already been cornered by none other than Ben Arnold. She wasn't sure when the two had been acquainted, but Lafayette was looking rather weary as Ben grew ever-closer to him with his notepad.

While she was trying to decide whether to approach the pair, Ben noticed her over Lafayette's shoulder.

“Y/N!” He flagged her down with a hand, and Lafayette turned sharply in the direction he was facing. Both she and he were tense as she approached. “You know Lafayette, don't you? I can't place it, but I'm sure I've seen you both talking together before.”

“Right. Yeah, we know each other.” Her smile was tight, but Ben didn't seem to pick up on it. “What's going on over here?”

“We're talking about Adams’ speech from the other day. I wanna root for the guy, but God, he sure fumbled that.” He shook his head in disdain. “He has me starting to think he might just be too old to be the candidate.”

“Yeah, well. No candidate is perfect.”

“You're one to talk, with the way you've been tearing into Jefferson. You're doing great work, though, don't get me wrong. And don't let me dissuade you.” When Ben nudged her playfully, she pursed her lips.

“Thanks.”

“How's your day going, though? Have you gotten any content out of this rally?” The concern in his brow was aimless, and when Y/N shrugged, he frowned. He followed her gaze as she snuck glances at Lafayette.

“It's been fine. I, um, I should get going, though. It looks like you two were in the middle of an interview, and I really don't want to take your time. I have some work to get done this afternoon.”

“Will your article finally be hitting the front pages?” Y/N inhaled sharply when Lafayette spoke, and his polite tone was in contrast with his stern, knit brow.

“Not today.” She spoke softly, and when she looked him in the eye, she was almost afraid to look away. “There have been some complications.”

“Of what sort?”

“That’s somewhat confidential, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sure it is.” He hesitated. She didn’t move. “Is everything alright?”

“Is everything alright?” she repeated incredulously, and he shrugged.

“I am only wondering.”

“I’m fine.” She answered the question he didn’t ask.

“Glad to hear it.” Ben nudged her with a lopsided smile, and the one she put on to match was stiff. “Looking forward to your article, then.”

She and Lafayette shared a look.

————

PER NOBODY’S WISHES, she thought dryly as she read her email, they’d be seeing her again soon. Thomas was holding a speaking event at the university she'd attended, and it was being moderated by a professor she'd had as an undergrad. Although Thomas’ campaign may have blacklisted her, her persistent participation in journalism seminars appeared to be paying off well into her career. There was, of course, a media junket in the hours that preceded the speech, and she was, of course, always welcome back at her alma mater. When she was younger, people would tell her time and time again that her GPA barely mattered if she wasn’t looking to attend graduate school, but there it was, pulling strings she figured had long since frayed.

She arrived early. She’d barely slept the night before, so she figured it wasn’t ultimately worth waiting the extra hours before leaving the house, and she showered before the sun was even up. She stopped by her old professor’s office to thank him along with an extra cold brew and her thoughts on his recent book. She lingered in the bookstore afterwards, eyeing the merchandise they’d updated since she attended. She walked by her old dorm building. She made uneasy eye contact with the security guards placed every five feet.

Vans with tinted windows went in and out of gated driveways, and she wondered which of them had reason to appear so incognito. Although she hadn’t the slightest clue, she didn’t allow her stare to linger on any of them for too long.

She checked in for her time slot four hours early.

—-------

THOMAS HAD MIXED feelings about university speaking engagements. Young people barely voted, and many of them had obviously come only to network regardless, trailing behind him with questions about his campaign staff and his cabinet. Nevertheless, the optics of caring about the next generation were helpful if not essential, so there he was in a van being driven through closed-off streets toward a university convention center.

He shook hands and learned names he had little intention of remembering for multiple hours before the event even started, and he was led by his security detail down a long hallway for the press junket that he should have anticipated.

He asked for a cup of coffee before they started, chatting idly with one of his bodyguards in the hallway outside, and then he asked for another. He arrived at the first interview thirty-eight minutes late.

He cut each interview short. They were with outlets he’d spoken to time and time again: CNN, Fox, the Associated Press, the Guardian. The questions they asked were routine.

Eight interviews took him less than an hour, ultimately, but he was informed that he’d be giving sixteen that day (it would’ve been fifteen, but the university newspaper snuck in a reservation).

After each, he took a breath, fixed his tie, and opened the next door to meet the interviewer he’d be speaking to next.

Nine was from NBC.

Ten was the Times — he shuddered when he saw Ben Arnold, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen his face before.

Eleven was the LA Times.

Twelve was NPR.

He walked out on autopilot toward the next room after shaking his interviewer’s hand and wishing her well. His eyes were glazed over as he opened the door to room thirteen.

He fixed his shirt cuffs as he walked in. “Mornin’, how’s your day—?” He stopped short when she lifted her head, eyes as wide as his. “Who the hell let you in?”

“Please, just give me five minutes.”

He looked over his shoulder to his security personnel. “Gimme the room.”

“Sir, we’re under instructions not to leave your side.”

“Instructions from who? You work for me.”

“I understand that, but our manager—”

“Wait outside. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure, Secretary Jefferson?”

He nodded before turning back toward Y/N. “I only need five minutes, hm?”

“Yes. Please.” He sat across from her as the security detail filed out into the hallway, and her hand was shaking atop her notebook when he met her eyes.

“What part of ‘stay away from me’ was unclear?” he spat.

“It’s my job; I couldn’t stop trying to get to your events.”

“And what did you think would happen when you did?” She was silent. “How the hell did you get in, anyway? My staff knows that you—”

“I went here. For college. I used to work for the professor interviewing you later, and he reached out to me, not the other way around.”

“Management and I are gonna be havin’ a serious talk about his role in organizing this event, then.”

“Hey, come on, it’s not his fault,” she protested. “You can’t ruin his credibility just for this, it’s not—”

“It’s not what?” he snapped. “It’s not fair? It’s not right? All of a sudden, you’re worried about protecting somebody’s reputation?”

“Come on, you know what I’m saying. He did nothing wrong.”

“And I did then?” He raised his eyebrows, folding his arms. She sighed, shoulders dropping. “‘S that what you’re saying? Is that all you meant? He doesn’t deserve that, but I do?”

“No, of course you don’t. Please stop making this something it isn’t.”

“What is it then? Hm? If it’s not you playing favorites? You’re allowed to drag my name in the streets, but I can’t do it to somebody you care about?”

“Thomas, I do care about you; just listen to me.”

“What is there left to say?” His tone was sharp, and he didn’t go on, just watching her expectantly. The only sound was the hum of the AV equipment switched on in the corner. She hadn’t set any of it up.

“I just want you to understand that this is my job.” She spoke softly. “I didn’t know this was what I was signing up for, but I did, and it’s too late for me to back out.”

“You didn’t do this by accident. I don’t care what your assignment was; you sat down and spent hours writing down the worst things you could find about me.”

“I had to. My editor—”

“You had to? There was no other way out?”

“Yeah, maybe unemployment,” she bit back. “I need my job, Thomas. I have to work.”

“You’re a big name in media now. Don’t act like you have no sway.” He looked her up and down. “You made your choice. Now live with it.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” she urged. “Someone was going to come out with this eventually. If I didn’t write it, I would’ve been scooped.”

“You always have a choice.” When he stood, he was looking down his nose at her. “Hope it was worth spending your day here just to make mine worse. I’ll be more careful about the press at my events goin’ forward.”

He started toward the door, and her hurried footsteps behind him didn’t give him pause.

“Wait, please, I—” Her fingers were soft on his forearm, and he jerked it away, turning to face her.

“Don’t you dare touch me. You hear me?” His tone was harsh, and she pulled her hand back, balling her fingers lamely in front of her. “I don’t know where you find the goddamn nerve.”

When he left, he slammed the door behind him.

——————

SHE WAS DREADING the office on Monday. The speaking event had been local, so she couldn’t skate by on travel complications for another day working remotely. She slipped into the office early so her editor wouldn’t see her come in, and when eleven AM came and went undisturbed, she found herself ticking off the minutes before she could slink away while Ashley was out on lunch.

At 11:38 AM, there was a knock at her office door.

“Coming.” Her voice was soft.

She opened the door. The usual culprit.

“Ashley,” she said, honey-sweet, “Morning. Happy Monday.”

“Good morning, Y/N.” Her smile was tight. “What do you suppose there is to be happy about today?”

“Well, the weather is beautiful, my apartment’s heating was fixed, my friends are—”

“That was rhetorical.” Ashley breezed past her into her office, and Y/N sighed. “Where the hell is my article? I know you went to the Georgetown event last weekend, and you have yet to even send me notes from it.”

“He wouldn’t speak to me.” She turned, closing the door behind her.

“And why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know, because all my writing treats him terribly?” Y/N asked. “This is your own fault. Being upset with me for not being able to get his ear when you told me to drag his name through the mud is insane.”

“I don’t need a new interview with him. I need you to finish the draft you sent me weeks ago. If you don’t, I’m giving it to another staff writer to finish.”

“You’re bluffing. It’s my intellectual property; you don’t own that article until it’s published,” Y/N said. “If you could assign it to someone else, you would’ve by now.”

“And if someone had sent me your interview tape, I could’ve had it in the paper immediately,” Ashley seethed. “Why are you holding out on me, L/N? You got this assignment because your supervisors before me believed in you. This doesn’t just reflect on you; it reflects on them now, too.”

“Yeah, and they weren’t breathing down my neck trying to push their own agendas on my writing.”

“What did you just say to me?”

Y/N paused, sucking her teeth. Ashley raised her eyebrows.

“I think Adams lied,” Y/N finally said.

“And why do you think that?”

“He has an agenda. No one will even corroborate his story.”

“He worked with Jefferson, and the facts line up.”

“How would you know if the story lines up?” Y/N asked incredulously. “You weren’t on Washington’s staff with them.”

“I don’t care. I don’t care if you don’t have a secondary source, and I don’t care if you don’t believe him,” Ashley insisted, “because you haven’t published in weeks, and this is front-page news. You never sit on a story like this.”

“Don’t you care about our integrity? This affects our reputation as a paper, too.”

“If it turns out to be false, we’ll print a retraction.”

“I don’t want my name attached to a slanderous article,” Y/N said. “We could get sued. I could get sued.”

“We have the best lawyers in the game, L/N. What you need to do is grow a pair.”

“Jesus Christ, don’t talk to me like that.” Y/N’s nose was crinkled as she eyed Ashley. “However good you think our lawyers are, you underestimate Jefferson’s.”

“I’ve been in journalism a long time. I know what we can get away with.”

“What if I don’t want to just be ‘getting away with’ things?” Y/N asked. “I came here to report the truth.”

“From what we know, this is the truth.”

“But we don’t know that.” Y/N’s firm gaze met Ashley’s narrowed eyes. “I’m not finishing the article.”

“You work for me.”

“If you press this, I’ll walk away,” Y/N warned. “You need me here this late in the game.”

“You need me a whole lot more,” Ashley said. “If you don’t get me my finished article by Friday, you’re fired.”

“Then I quit.”

Ashley’s narrowed eyes softened. “You don’t mean that.”

“I’ll pack my office. Effective immediately.” Y/N’s expression was unchanging. Ashley drew back, folding her arms.

“Fine. You have thirty minutes. After that, security will see you out.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

—————

SHE HADN’T PLANNED for that. When she went home, she was all but convinced it had been a fever dream. Was she sick? She took her temperature—98.5° F. She checked her email. It had already been disabled. Her Google Drive was gone, which meant her draft was gone, which meant her career was over.

She hadn’t given two weeks notice, and she had burned a bridge. Ashley wouldn’t be listed as a reference on her future job applications. She hadn’t published in weeks, and she had lost all her contacts on the Jefferson campaign. Who would hire her?

She looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot despite her nine hours of sleep. She needed to go to sleep.

Laying down didn’t help. Maybe Tums would do something, but the sinking feeling in her stomach wasn’t nausea. She figured an antacid couldn’t hurt. Maybe she was stopped up. Maybe she just needed a laxative. Maybe she needed antipsychotics. Had she gone mad?

She didn’t check her phone for three hours. She could only stare at the ceiling. She had no dental insurance, so she would need to postpone her appointment. She had no health insurance, either, so she was rather lucky that flu season was over. Her car repairs would have to wait, but the Metro reached her part of town. She didn’t have to travel for work anymore, anyway.

She had opted in on a financial nightmare. It wasn’t until later that afternoon that she even remembered why.

It was with trembling fingers that she called Lafayette. He didn’t answer, and she couldn’t blame him. She sent him a text. Quit my job. Not sure what to do. Call me back.

She couldn’t call Alex, and she couldn’t call Angelica, and she didn’t have Dolley’s number. None of her closest friends would understand the decision she’d made.

She went downstairs, and Mira was in the kitchen idly doing the dishes. The lunch rush had passed, and the dinner one hadn’t started.

“Hey, Mira,” she said softly. “Do you have a minute?”

“Dishes have to get done, mija, are you going to help me?” Her tone was all business, and it almost made Y/N smile. She had her own concerns.

“Yeah, I can. Lemme load the dishes.” And so as Mira scraped and rinsed each plate, Y/N put them one by one into the dishwasher. She fell into a rhythm so passively that it caught her off guard when Mira spoke.

“You wanted to talk about something with me?” she asked, and Y/N went still.

“Yeah,” she said, “I did.”

“I am listening.”

“I quit my other job.”

Mira turned the water off. Her brows were knit when she faced Y/N. “You quit?”

“I did.”

“You worked hard for that promotion. What happened? You were famous.”

“My editor wanted me to publish some things I didn’t quite believe in,” Y/N said quietly, and Mira nodded, turning back to the sink. She turned the water on and reached for another glass.

“Ya veo. About Thomas?”

Y/N paused. “What makes you say that?”

Mira only shot her a sidelong glance, raising one skeptical eyebrow. Y/N shrugged, and Mira turned back to the sink, shaking her head. “What did they want you to say about him?”

“I…” It occurred to her that Mira hadn’t answered her question. “Things I don’t want to repeat. I don’t want to spread rumors.”

“Are they true?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then I will not repeat what you tell me,” Mira said. “Tell me.”

“There are claims he was an alcoholic,” Y/N said, and Mira pursed her lips, nodding.

“Is that just a rumor?”

“Only one person has claimed it. They say it was years ago.”

“He does not seem to me to be an alcoholic.”

“Me neither,” Y/N said. “If it’s true, he’s clearly recovered. With how much energy he has, I’d sooner believe that he does cocaine.”

Mira laughed softly at that. “He is always moving, no?”

“You’re telling me.”

Mira turned off the water as she handed Y/N the final dish. “So when did you quit?”

“This morning.”

Her eyebrows jumped. “Today?”

Y/N nodded. “I didn’t even give any notice. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You were being brave,” Mira replied. “You did what you believed.”

“And now I’m paying the price.”

“What price?” Mira asked. “You left a job that you hated. You… what is it… seguiste a tu corazón.”

“Followed my heart?” Y/N repeated, and Mira nodded.

“Thomas means something to you,” —Y/N opened her mouth to protest, and Mira only raised a hand to stop her— “He is in your life, at least. He is your friend. You did what he needed.”

“I know. God, I hope so. I was just trying to do the right thing, and now I feel like I’ve blown up my life.”

“What is blown up? You have a roof over your head. You have food on your table. Also you have this job.”

“It’s not enough for me to be able to pay you rent money,” Y/N admitted. “Not with my student loan payments. I understand if I can’t stay, but when I find a new job, I can get you all the money later, and if you want interest, it’s—”

“It is not my worry,” Mira said. “We have enough money. We do not need yours. We will not remove you from your home.”

“Thank you, but I’ll pay you when I have the money. I’m sorry.”

“Do not be sorry. Be proud that you have done what you believe.” Mira took Y/N’s damp hand in her own, dishwater running down in beads from her elbow. “I am proud of you. It is allowed to feel that for yourself, too.”

—————

SHE THEN CALLED Thomas. He didn’t pick up, and she wasn’t expecting him to. He hadn’t read any of her texts in weeks, so she didn’t bother sending them anymore, but they were still marked as delivered. Lafayette didn’t call her back, but he texted— I am happy for you.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Can you call?

He texted back immediately. Later. I am working.

Are we okay? It took her a long moment of staring to press “send.”

We will need to have a longer conversation, he sent. Her stomach turned. Then— But yes.

She called Thomas again.

That was her routine for the rest of the evening. She applied for a job at CNN, she called Thomas. She made herself dinner, she called Thomas. She took out the trash, she called Thomas. She applied for five more jobs, she called Thomas. She took a break to read through the texts she’d sent him, and she called Thomas.

She texted Lafayette again. Can you tell Thomas to call me?

I can try, was his reply. Should I tell him you quit?

I’d like to tell him myself, she sent.

Then it will be difficult.

By eight PM, he had 47 missed calls from her. It was more than she’d tried in the weeks since he had cut her off, but she supposed he would have chalked it up to the fight they’d had over the weekend. Every time the phone went to voicemail, she heard his disgusted voice ringing in her ears— I don’t know where you find the nerve.

Frankly, she wasn’t sure, either.

At 9:47, she had just finished another job application, and it was time to call Thomas again. She was sitting on her couch, and she put the phone on speaker beside her as she reached for her glass of wine. She closed tabs on her laptop as she listened to the first four rings, and she pulled up another application as the fifth went by.

The sixth ring never came, and the phone didn’t go to voicemail. There was faint static coming from her phone’s speaker. She froze.

Tentatively, she spoke. “Thomas?”

A beat passed. Finally, “I only picked up as a favor to Lafayette. You can tell him I did my piece.”

“Wait, no, don’t hang up,” she said frantically. “Please. Are you still there?”

“I’m done wastin’ time here. I’ve given you a whole lotta chances. Goodnight.”

“I quit my job.” Her words were rushed. Silence followed, but no dial tone.

“You what?”

“I quit my job,” she repeated. “The article’s scrapped.”

“Y’know, it’s not so easy to trust right now that you’re tellin’ me the whole truth.”

“I know,” Y/N said softly, putting down her wine glass. She picked up the phone and took it off of speaker. “But that's it.”

“You’re not goin’ back?”

“Never.”

“And that article’s never gonna see the light?”

“It would be illegal for them to publish without me on staff. They don’t even have the interview tape.”

There was a long pause. “Why’d you do it?”

“Are you serious?” she asked, huffing out a disbelieving laugh.

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“Because I couldn’t publish that article. I’m sorry I ever even wrote it. My editor has been hounding me for weeks to get it finished so that they could publish, and I delayed it and delayed it, but it came down to publishing or leaving. So I finally left.”

“‘Cause I yelled at you in a conference room at your old college?”

“Because you were right when you did,” she said. “No one who cared about you would publish that article.”

“What about all those bills you have to pay?” The question was steeped in disdain.

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted, and her voice was shaky when she explained, “I’m applying for jobs, but I’ll take on more hours at the diner, and I can delay some of my payments. And Mira and Orlando are my landlords, so they won’t evict me, so I won’t need to couch surf. I’ll take on a little bit of debt. I’ll figure it out.”

He hesitated a moment. “Sorry for askin’. You don’t owe me all that information.”

“Right now I owe you any explanation you want.”

He sighed. “Y/N.”

“I’m serious. I’m so sorry, Thomas. This whole ordeal is finally over. You never have to think about this again.”

“Well, if somebody’s giving interviews about it, I’m sure I’m gonna have to worry about it soon enough.”

“...Right.”

“But that’s not your fault. I shouldn’t put that on you. ‘M sorry.”

“You don’t owe me any apologies,” she said softly. “I’m glad you picked up.”

“Yeah.” A beat. “I am too.”

Nearly a minute passed and neither of them spoke. Neither seemed to have the words to offer, but he didn’t hang up, and she didn’t want to.

Finally, “Can I come over?”

He hesitated. “I’m at James’ right now.”

“Oh.” Her voice went quiet. “Right. Of course. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry, I’ll let you—”

“I’ll be home in an hour,” he cut her off, and her eyebrows shot up. “Think you can wait that long?”

She checked the time. It was past ten. “I suppose I don’t have anywhere to be in the morning.”

He didn’t laugh. “I’ll text you when I’m home.”

—-

IT WAS MORE than an hour later when he texted her. In fact, it had been eighty-one minutes. She'd begun to abandon her hopes when he sent— Headed home. Come by whenever.

She didn't love being on the Metro at that hour. She couldn't call an Uber. She brought nothing but her phone, wallet, and keys.

It was nearing midnight when she arrived, and ten minutes passed between when she buzzed in and when she knocked on his door. Most of them were spent standing outside working up the courage to do so.

When she finally did, he opened the door immediately.

“Hey,” he said softly, looking her up and down.

“Were you waiting by the door?”

He frowned. “It's the middle of the night, and I buzzed you in twenty minutes ago. What else would I be doing?”

She chose not to correct him on the time. “Right, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m sure.”

She didn't respond at first, shifting her weight between her feet. “Can I come in?”

He sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. Lemme take your jacket.”

“Thanks.” The brush of his fingers against hers when he took it sent chills down her arm. She followed him inside.

“Would it be too on the nose to offer you a drink?” he asked. “I think we could both use one right about now.”

“It'd be more than welcome,” she agreed weakly, and he nodded, walking toward the kitchen. She didn't follow him right away, and he glanced back at her.

“Well, c'mon in, act like you've been here before. You know where the glasses are.”

“Right. Sorry.” She slipped off her shoes before continuing toward his cabinets. “What are we drinking?”

“Wine?”

“What kind?”

“Zinfandel.”

“Right.” She handed him two wine glasses as he took a bottle from his shelf and pulled the cork.

“Thanks,” he said. She nodded.

A moment passed in silence as he poured two glasses, and he turned his head to look at her as he put the cork back on the bottle. “Take your pick.”

“Right. Thanks.” She took the glass closest to her.

“Cheers?” he said as he picked up his glass, tilting it toward her. Her smile was tight as she clinked her glass against his. He sighed. “Relax a little. You wouldn't be here if I didn't wanna see you. You're not on trial.”

“I know,” she agreed softly, “but I did fuck up. You don't have to be this nice to me right now.”

“I know.” He took a sip of his wine. “That's what makes me such a good person.”

She rolled her eyes, and his small smile was self-satisfied. “My savior.”

“Hey, I don't wanna hear any snark from you in these circumstances,” he warned, and she shrugged.

“Then you shouldn't have invited me over.”

He raised an eyebrow. “The way I remember it, you invited yourself.”

“How rude of me.”

“I oughta kick you out just for that.” She cast him a sidelong glance as she took a sip, and amusement danced in his smiling eyes. “You wanna come sit down?”

“I… yeah. I'd love to.” They both migrated to the living room, and when she took a seat on one end of the couch, he sat beside her without hesitation. “I still feel like I owe you an apology.”

“You've apologized. Not much more you can say about that.” His tone was dismissive.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, sweetheart.” He took a heavy sip of his wine, and she frowned. “What I do want, though, is an explanation.”

“I… don't think I have much of an explanation to offer. No excuses I haven't already given you.”

“I don’t want an excuse. Why’d you do it?” he asked. “When did this start, who gave the interview? How long have you been sitting on it?”

“I can't tell you who.” Her response came quickly, and he furrowed his eyebrows. “I'm sorry, I know that's unsatisfying, but it's just not something I'm willing to break. Their anonymity, I mean.”

He hesitated a moment. “Y’know it's not your job anymore, right?”

“Yes, I'm aware.” Her voice had an edge. “But… this is about my reputation as a journalist. This is an integrity thing.”

“Whoever you're interviewing doesn't seem to have a whole lotta integrity.”

“That isn't my problem.”

“You know this affects me, yeah? I'm not asking this outta spite; I need to know who's claimin’ this.”

“I can't be the one to tell you.” Y/N pursed her lips. “I'm sorry for that. Honestly. But I can't.”

Thomas took a heavy breath. “You're not makin’ it real easy to forgive you, y'know.”

“I'm sorry,” she said quietly. Her ears rang in the silence that followed.

“Fine,” he finally said. “When did you write the article, then?”

She swallowed. “Shit… I… Almost three months ago? Maybe less?”

“Three months?” he repeated.

“I told you my editor was at the end of her rope with me delaying this. It wasn't for no reason.”

“So every time I've seen you for three months you've been sittin’ on this.”

“I mean… yeah.” She shrugged. He was watching her incredulously.

“That's all you've gotta say about it? Yeah?” Her nose crinkled at his pitchy impression of her voice. “Every time I've seen you you've just been pretending you weren't gonna destroy my reputation?”

She sighed. “It's not like that. I mean, it is, but c'mon. It's not like I've been putting on such a promising act as your fun hookup. All we've done for the past three months is fight.”

“What about that night at the diner?” he asked. “We did a whole lot other than fightin'.”

“Do you mean your rally?” she asked, and he nodded. “Thomas, I hadn't written it then. I didn't even have my source yet. I didn't know about any of this. I… it was the last time I woke up here that was the day I wrote it.”

“Don't sound so self-righteous about my question, then; you were still stayin’ over here when you were writing it.”

“I was not,” she defended. “I haven't even been here since I wrote it. After that morning, I barely saw you for weeks.”

“And apparently I shoulda kept it that way.”

“Do you want my side of the story or not?” Y/N asked weakly. “I know you're upset, but you asked me to explain. I'm just trying to fill in the blanks.”

His jaw ticked, and he sat back against the couch. “Yeah. ‘M sorry. Go on.”

“Well, the article was the reason I didn't try to see you in those weeks. At least not for anything more than a talk. I think some part of me knew from the jump that it was wrong.”

“Then why'd you do it?” he asked. She sighed.

“My career. My money. I really needed that job, and I worked so hard for it, and at first I thought I might be able to discard the article without it seeing the light, but my editor doubled down. It was obvious pretty early on that my job depended on it. I was hoping I would be valuable enough that they wouldn't fire me over it, but once it was drafted, there was no way to stop it and stay at the Post.”

Her voice shook, and she reached over to put her wine glass on his coffee table. She rested her forehead in her hands.

“I know I fucked up, but even now, some part of me feels like I made the wrong choice. What now? What's next for me? Who's even going to hire me after I quit the Post with no notice? What about my loans?”

She jumped at the feeling of his hand on her shoulder, and when she looked up at him, he looked as bewildered at her reaction as she felt.

“‘M sorry. Didn't mean to… scare you, it's not… Shit. Whatever. I'm sorry.” His fingers were stiff as he rubbed her upper back, and it drew a soft laugh from her.

“God, when did we get so awkward? It's okay, it's not your fault.” She took his hand from her shoulder, lacing her fingers into his.

“‘Course. Right. But y'know… if I'd never gone for you, you wouldn't be in this type of spot. I shoulda just left you alone from the jump.”

“That would've made both of our lives a hell of a lot easier,” Y/N agreed, and his smile was reluctant. “Too late, though. If I didn't care about you being in my life, I wouldn't have just thrown away my career for you.”

“Y’know, the campaign could always use more speech writers.”

“Not helpful.”

“I know. Sorry, sugar.” He squeezed her hand. “But your career's not down the drain. You're real smart, and you're real talented. Somebody else is gonna wanna hire you.”

“Maybe, but the industry is so tight. If word travels that I left the Post with no notice, I'll seem unreliable. Nobody wants that.”

“Somebody’ll hire you. I promise, alright?” His words held great conviction, and she could only sigh.

“Thanks, Thomas.”

He offered an encouraging smile. “‘Course.” He paused for a moment— “Now, I don't wanna reopen old wounds or anything, but I gotta ask.” She creased her brow. “Was the article the only reason you were avoidin’ me? Changin’ all your shifts at the diner, boltin’ for the door when I saw you at Lafayette's… was that all this?”

“I… I don't know.”

“Right. ‘Course, ‘m sorry for askin’. I shouldn't have brought that back up; it isn't even—”

“No, no, listen to me.” Her voice held traces of frustration. “I like you, you know I do, as if me quitting my job isn't evidence enough, but I just couldn't,” —her words were defeated— “let myself get attached to you. There's no good ending to this. The good ending was sex until the election and then neatly going our separate ways. And I fucked that up a couple different times.”

“So you didn't?” he asked. She frowned.

“Are you serious? Of course I got attached. You're all swagger and confidence, and suddenly the Republican presidential frontrunner wanted me, of all people. It all felt like a dream. It felt like too much of a dream. There's no room for dreaming in my future, only planning.”

“So you just saw it as temporary.”

She nodded. “I did. I fucked up by getting to know you, though, and you fucked up by being so much kinder and more complex than I took you to be. I didn't account for there being anything under the surface.”

He smiled softly. “Sorry, sweetheart. I'll try not to let it happen again.”

“You're too considerate.” She pulled her legs up onto the couch, sitting with them slanted at her side. “All of that to say, no, it wasn't just the article, but you did nothing wrong.”

“This is night ‘n day from you accusin’ me of trying to control you a couple weeks ago,” he pointed out, and she huffed.

“Hey, I was trying to keep us from having to figure all this out. It would've been easier if you'd given me a good reason to lose your number.”

“I'm glad I didn't.”

“I am too,” she agreed. She picked up her glass of wine, and she took a slow sip, choosing her words. “So, are we, like, good?”

He laughed. “Mhm, we're, like, good.” Y/N rolled her eyes at his impression of her voice, but when he squeezed her knee, her stomach turned. “C'mon, lighten up.”

“I don't think this is all that funny,” she protested, and he sighed.

“All is forgiven, alright? Relax. We'll laugh about this soon enough.”

“I'm not ready to laugh at it yet.”

“You'll get there.” His hand was creeping up her thigh, rubbing circles into her skin, and she frowned before covering it with hers.

“What exactly do you think you're doing here?”

He smiled as his hand tightened around her leg, fingertips pressing into the skin, and she gasped when he pulled her toward him. “Clearin’ the air.”

“You're so corny.”

“‘N I missed you. Gimme this.” He took her glass of wine out of her hand, placing both his and hers on his coffee table.

“I was drinking that.”

“‘N now you aren't. Y'know, alcohol really isn't good for you. Take it from somebody who knows.” Her eyes were wide as he pulled her legs over his lap, his hand settling on her lower back when her thighs were draped over his.

“You're invading my space, Jefferson.”

“You gonna write an article about it?” He held her face by the chin, then only inches from his. The mocking pout he offered made her roll her eyes. “Sick of seein’ that frown.”

He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, and when she smiled at the gentle action, he turned her head to kiss her on the mouth. “There's that smile,” he said softly before kissing her again. “All I've been getting these days was your little furrowed brow,” —he swiped his thumb over the bridge of her nose— “always so angry with me. Always pouting.”

“It was for good reason.”

He snorted. “Uh huh. ‘Cause I've just been such a nuisance.”

“You've been the cause of all my stress for months now.”

“Then lemme relieve some of it.” His hand drew back to the nape of her neck, pulling her closer as he kissed across her chin and down her jaw. He hooked his other hand under her thigh. “Come here.”

She squealed when he pulled her all the way onto his lap, and she shifted to face him, tilting her head back as his lips traveled down her neck. She wrapped her arms around his neck, unable to stop the little whimpers that escaped her lips as he sucked on her skin, and she squealed when he suddenly bit down hard on the skin above her collarbone.

“Thomas,” she whined as a hand flew to his hair, and she whimpered as he sucked the soft skin into his mouth, pulling her in close by the waist. The skin smarted as he pulled away, his breath heavy. “That hurt.”

“D'you mind?” He raised his eyebrows, expression flat, and she swallowed.

“No.” Her voice was small.

“Good.” His mouth returned to the skin of her chest, kissing and biting her upper breasts. He released her waist to undo the top buttons of her blouse, brow furrowed as he did so, and after a moment, he huffed and grabbed the bottom hem of her shirt. “Pick your arms up.”

“What?”

“Come on,” he said, hands slipping under the fabric around her waist, riding it up to the band of her bra. She put her arms above her head, and he immediately pulled her shirt off, discarding it absently onto the floor. He grabbed her by the waist and tossed her on her back onto the couch beside him, and she yelped when her bare back hit the cool leather, arching away from it.

When he climbed on top of her, he slipped a hand under her back to undo her bra clasp, sliding it down her obliging arms. She inhaled sharply when the cool air hit her sensitive nipples, watching him in anticipation.

“Touch yourself,” he said softly, and she raised her eyebrows.

“What?”

“C'mon, play with your tits for me. Wanna see you make yourself feel good.”

“I…” Any protest in her voice died when his lips returned to her skin, kissing down her stomach, shifting down the couch. He settled between her legs, nipping the skin above her hip lightly. He met her eyes with an expectant gaze.

She tilted her head back, arching up against her hand as she reached for her breast, pinching her nipple. Her breathing was heavy; she reached for the couch cushion behind her head with her other hand, gripping it tightly.

“Fuck.” The sound escaped her lips as a whisper as she rolled her nipple between her fingers, and her hips twitched involuntarily. Thomas’ hands ran up her bare thighs under her skirt.

“Look at me,” he demanded, and she did so with a deep breath, squeezing her breast in her hand. His heavy gaze made her squirm. “Good girl.”

The words made her groan as she took her other breast in her hand, circling the nipple with her fingertips as it hardened. Although she was watching Thomas, his eyes were fixed on her chest, and she pushed her tits together, rolling her hips toward him.

“Please touch me,” she breathed, and he smiled, pushing her skirt up to her waist.

“Do you deserve it?” He ran a finger lightly over the outside of her panties, and it brushed over her clothed clit, making her whine. She pinched both nipples, pulling her tits up her chest.

“Please. I'll behave. I'll be good for you.” She arched harder toward him. He watched with hungry eyes as she squeezed her breasts.

“Finally got tired of making trouble?” He didn't wait for an answer before pulling her panties down her legs, leaving them dangling off one of her ankles as he grabbed her by the hips and pulled her toward him. She inhaled sharply.

“So pretty,” he commented, running a finger up her slit. He smiled at the wetness that collected on his fingertip. “And so well behaved. This all for me, sweetheart?”

She moaned when he circled her clit with his thumb, and she nodded, desperately grabbing at the couch. He landed a sharp slap to her thigh, and she yelped.

“Did I say you could move your hands?” he asked, and she frowned, bringing them back to her hard nipples. “Keep ‘em there.”

She swallowed hard when he returned to her sensitive clit, rubbing it in light strokes. Her breathing was heavy, and any movement from her hands was absentminded as her chest heaved. His fingers dipped down, teasing her entrance, and when his tongue flicked her clit, she stiffened, arching involuntarily as she rolled her hips toward him. When his lips wrapped gently around her clit, his teeth scraped it, and her legs jerked. She whined.

“Fuck, please, Thomas.”

“Be patient.” His hands moved to her hips, arms hooked under her thighs to hold her legs open, and he sucked hard on her throbbing clit. She moaned, and he didn’t stop her when one of her hands flew down to the back of his head, knotting her fingers in his hair.

“Oh, god,” she groaned, and she could feel his smile grow against her skin as his tongue traced patterns on her clit. “Fuck, you’re good at that.”

“Mhm.” Her legs shook under the vibrations of his voice on his tongue.

Her eyes fell shut as her body tensed and twitched, and he didn’t let up, pushing her hips down into the couch as he worked her up. She whimpered when he released her thigh to slip a finger into her ignored pussy, curling it gently inside her.

“I need more.” Her voice was needy when she eventually spoke, her orgasm starting to build inside her. Everything was just shy of enough—his lips were too gentle, his fingers too slow, and all it did was frustrate her. Thomas didn’t respond. She huffed, but she could only stay quiet another moment. “Please?”

He pursed his lips as he lifted his head to look up at her. “You think you need more?”

“Yes, I do,” she whined. “I can’t cum like this.”

“What d’you need?”

“Just… more, please,” she said desperately. “Harder, or faster, or… something. Just… more.”

“Oh yeah?” He added another finger to her dripping pussy, and she gasped. His fingers pumped quickly in and out of her. “You need more?”

“Yeah, yeah, just like that. Oh, god.” She moaned, dropping her head back onto the couch, and his lips returned to her clit. She squealed. “That’s so good. Just like that.”

He sucked her clit hard into his mouth, flicking it with the tip of his tongue, and her hips jerked uncontrollably against him, chasing her orgasm. Her eyes rolled back when he curled his fingers inside her. “Fuck, Thomas, I’m close.”

“Yeah?” he murmured against her, and he lifted his head. “You gonna cum for me? You almost there?”

“Yeah,” she moaned, and his tongue returned to her clit. Her legs were shaking in his grasp, and one of her hands gripped his hair while the other sank into the couch cushions, scrambling to ground her. “I’m so close, fuck, don’t stop, I’m gonna—”

She was cut off abruptly by her own loud whine as he pulled back from her entirely, and she could feel her building orgasm dissipate. “No, no, no, please, I need—”

“Who said any of this was about you, hm?” He raised an eyebrow as he lifted his head between her legs, and her hold on his hair loosened. Her deep-seated pout didn’t stop him. “Do you think you deserve to cum right now? After everything you did?”

“You said we were all good,” she protested, and he hummed in agreement.

“‘N I feel great right now. Don’t think I see the issue.” She groaned when he sat up, running his hands up her thighs. “Should be real grateful I’m not still upset with you. I could be doin’ a whole lot worse than this right now.”

“What, you want me to thank you?” she said dryly, propping herself on her hands as she sat up. Thomas pulled her closer by the thighs as he raised his eyebrows. “...Do you?”

“I mean, some manners would go a long way. I’ve been awful generous toward you, sweetheart.”

“I’ve said please.”

“‘N I don’t owe you anything for that,” he said, looking her in the eye as his thumb circled her clit. “You don’t have any kinda control over me. You don’t own me.”

If it weren’t for the punch in his tone, she wouldn’t have realized he was throwing her own words back at her, and she exhaled heavily. “C’mon, play nice.”

“I’ve been plenty nice to you.” His hands ghosted down her legs to her calves, and she sighed. “If anybody has reason to be upset, I’m pretty damn sure it’s me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. He looked her over for a moment, and he swung his legs over the side of the couch to stand, making her furrow her brow. When he reached his feet, she followed suit, “Hey, wait don’t—” She squealed when he leaned down suddenly to throw her over his shoulder, holding her by her legs.

“It’s alright sugar, I know you’re sorry. Think it’s my job to make you sorry, though.”

She groaned. “Put me down, let’s just talk about this first.”

“Don’t think so.” She squeaked when he pinched the back of her bare thigh, reaching around to swat his hand away. Her eyes widened as she recognized the door to his room retreating behind them as he walked through his apartment, and she yelped when he threw her down onto his mattress. “We’ve talked plenty, haven’t we?”

He didn’t waste any time before loosening his tie, and when she scrambled backwards on the mattress, he grabbed her by the ankle to pull her toward him. “Where the hell d’you think you’re going?”

“I don’t want this to be how we resolve this; we should—”

“D’you know your safeword?”

“...Red.”

“Then shut the hell up.”

Her chest heaved as she watched him undo the buttons on his shirt, but her gaze fell to the growing bulge in his crotch all the while. He seemed to pay her little mind, barely sparing her a glance as he pushed his shirt down his shoulders. His undershirt was tight, and when he joined her on the mattress, climbing atop her, her hands drifted to its lower hem, pulling it out of the waist of his pants.

“You should take this off,” she said softly, and he kissed her bare shoulder.

“Don't think I will.”

She huffed, and he reached for the waistband of her skirt. When he tried to pull it down, it caught on her hips, and he furrowed his brow. “Where the hell's the zipper on this thing?”

It was without warning when he grabbed her hips to flip her onto her stomach, and she yelped when he immediately pulled her hips back toward him to pull down the zipper of her skirt. He pushed her flat on her stomach to pull it down her legs, and when he did, she pushed her torso up to turn and look at him.

“Why am I the only one naked?” she asked, and he pushed her chest back down onto the bed with a firm hand between her shoulder blades. He slapped her ass absentmindedly.

“Relax. I'll take care of you.”

Although she huffed, her heart was racing as he ran a hand down her bare back. She twitched when his fingers dipped between her bare legs, and she parted them reflexively. The pads of his fingers were warm as they ran up her slit.

“So wet.” His tone was condescending. “So pretty.”

It was abrupt when he grabbed her by the thighs, pushing her to her knees, and he parted her legs by the calves. She braced herself on her forearms, arching her back, and he hummed agreeably. It was nervously that she glanced back at him, and she found him settling on his knees between her legs.

“You okay?” he asked softly. He kissed her bare lower back, and her tense shoulders softened. He leaned over her to kiss the back of her shoulder, and she felt his hard, clothed dick against her ass. She whined.

“Thomas, please, just fuck me.” She pushed herself back against him, shaking her hips. She dragged her ass down against his boner. “Don’t you want to?”

He hummed absently. “I’ll think about it.”

“Come on,” she pleaded, voice breaking. “Don’t make me wait any longer; I need you, I need you now.”

He laughed. “Aw, sugar, that badly?”

“Please?” she said softly.

“Yeah, alright.” The clang of him undoing his belt made her heart rate jump. The smooth sound of leather against fabric, and then the muted thud of the buckle hitting the floor. When she felt his dick tap her clit, sliding against her center, her hips twitched, and when his tip gently nudged her entrance, she pushed her hips desperately back against his, and he let her.

She could only take half of him on her own, and with a hand on the small of her back, he pushed himself the rest of the way in. She groaned.

“Fuck, that’s deep,” she said. He hummed in amusement, rolling his hips against hers, and she whimpered. “God, please move. Please?”

“Mhm.” When he began to thrust into her, it was shallow at first, and his pace was slow. Impatient, she snapped her hips back against his, fucking herself on his dick, and he moaned. “Yeah, just like that, sweetheart. Keep going.”

Although she did so vigorously, fists twisting in the sheets to brace herself to feel him deeper, he grabbed her by the hips, pulling them back at his own pace. As it quickened, she went limp in his grasp, doing her best to keep matching his movements, but her actions grew increasingly pathetic as he took control. He slapped her ass, gripping the meat of it.

It was a moment later when he grew impatient, grabbing her by the waist to push her down into the mattress. She squeaked as she lost her hold on the sheets she had been gripping for leverage, her cheek squished into the mattress beside her hands.

“Jesus, you feel good,” he grunted, leaning over her. His pace quickened, and she gasped. “You like that? You like it when I hold you down and fuck you?”

“Yeah,” she whined. “‘S good.”

“Yeah? You missed me blowing your back out? Huh?” He slapped her ass, and she squealed. “Say it.”

“Missed it. Fuck, please, I missed you,” she said. “So good. You’re so good.”

“Yeah, good girl,” he cooed, leaning over her back. He kissed her shoulder as he weaved a hand into her hair, and she whimpered when he pulled it back with a tight grip at the roots. Her head lifted off the mattress, mouth agape. “Taking it so good for me. So well behaved.”

His lips latched onto her shoulder, sucking her skin into his mouth, and she sagged against the mattress, eyes rolling back when his teeth sank lightly into it. When he pulled away, the skin was red and smarting. He kissed the resultant mark.

“Thomas, I need more,” she pleaded. “I can’t cum like this. Please, touch me.”

“Beg for it,” he said, releasing her hair, and she groaned.

“Please, please, I’ve been so good. I’ll be good for you, Thomas, anything you want,” she pleaded, and he hummed, his thrusts growing increasingly aggressive. His grip returned to her waist, pushing her down. “Need you, need you, need you.”

Her words were muffled as her face was against the sheets, and the movement of his hips against hers was becoming frantic.

“Keep going,” he panted, accelerating his thrusts, and she could feel that he was growing sloppy, beginning to lose his rhythm.

“Fuck, I’m desperate, touch me, make me come. You’re the only one I need; you’re the only one I want, but please, I need you.”

“Yeah? You need me? How bad?”

“So badly.” Her words were nearly a cry. “Please?”

“Fuck, I’m close,” he groaned, and she let out a broken whine.

“Please, let me cum, touch me,” she begged, and he leaned forward, pushing her down by her upper back. For only a moment, she could barely breathe as his hips hammered against hers.

“Oh, god, sweetheart.” His hips stilled against hers as he came, and after a moment, he released his hold on her back, leaning over her to kiss down her spine. She let out a shaky breath as he ran a gentle hand across her hip. “That was so good.”

“Mhm.” Her response was bitter and short, and he chuckled.

“What’s wrong, sugar?” He kissed her shoulder as he pulled out, and she didn’t respond, only going limp as she lay on the mattress. “Cat got your tongue?”

“‘M fine,” she said roughly. He hummed skeptically.

“Yeah?” His hands ran up her lower back, and he grabbed her by the hips to turn her over on the bed. She met his eyes with an impatient gaze. “C’mon, what’s the problem?”

As he settled between her legs on the mattress, she tensed, and his grip on her thighs was gentle.

“Thomas.” Her voice was warning.

“Mhm?” He blinked up at her innocently as he grabbed her hips, pushing them back.

“Please don’t tease,” she breathed, and he kissed her stomach softly, moving toward her center.

“When have I ever?” he asked, and when she rolled her eyes, he grinned. “Relax. I didn’t forget about you.”

“Thank god,” she murmured, and she jerked when his thumb brushed over her already-sensitive clit. She whimpered when he rolled it under the pad of his finger.

“This what you meant when you said you wanted me to touch you?” His fingers dipped down to her soaked entrance, gathering both their cum before returning to her slick clit. Her hips twitched away from his hand, and he frowned mockingly. “Aw, sweetheart, are you sure you're not too sensitive? Maybe I should stop, I don't wanna push your limits.”

“No,” she groaned. “No more teasing. I need to cum.”

“You're making demands now?” His thumb was flicking her clit back and forth as he raised an eyebrow at her, and she pouted. Her hips rolled against the pattern of his movement.

“Please. I've been good.”

“Yeah, you have.” He kissed her thigh, and when his tongue took the place of his fingers on her clit, she let out a heavy sigh.

“Oh, fuck.” Her voice shook. He pushed one tentative finger inside her, but she was sore enough that she barely felt it. “Keep going.”

It was easy to lose herself in the feeling as he picked and sucked at her clit, curling his fingers inside her, and with how sensitive she already was, her orgasm built quickly. She could feel her pulse in her center, and her cunt tightened sporadically around his long fingers.

“So tight,” he commented, moving a finger back to her clit, and she groaned at the loss of feeling. “Such a perfect cunt. And you've been so good, so obedient.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, hands twisting into his sheets as he worked her over.

“You gonna keep being good for me if I let you cum, sweetheart?” he asked, flicking the tip of her clit lightly, and her breathing was short. She nodded frantically.

“I'm close, I'm close, I'm close.” The words were a whine, and when he returned to rubbing circles into her clit, she let out a squeak.

“That feel good?”

“So good,” she whimpered.

“Cum for me, then.” His grip on her hip tightened; the pace of his finger accelerated, and that was all she needed to send her over the edge. Her whole body tensed, back arching and legs stiffening as she came, and she was panting as she came down from it.

He didn't stop the movement of his hand against her. As she squirmed under his touch, she had to reach down and take him by the wrist.

“No more,” she pleaded breathlessly. “I can't take any more.”

He chuckled as he moved away, kissing down her leg. “Alright. No more. You were good for me.”

She hummed softly in response, and his hands came to rest on her calves just below her knees as her eyelids drooped.

“You okay?” he asked, and she sighed.

“I'm okay.” She rolled her head to one side to look down at him. “Does this mean we're good?”

He chuckled and kissed her knee. “I'll get over it.”

“Yeah?” She reached for his hand when he came to sit beside her on the mattress, and he turned his head to look at her when she gave it a squeeze. His smile was halfhearted.

“Yeah.” He turned back to look at the ceiling. “I did miss you. It's worth having you back.”

“I feel the same,” she said softly.

“‘M gonna find some pajamas and a rag real quick; you want me to grab you something to wear?”

She sighed, pushing herself off of the bed to sit up. “Yeah. Thanks. Don't bother with a rag, though, I should pee anyway.”

“Alright. Be back in a minute.” He sat up to kiss her forehead, taking her face in his hands as he did so, but when he pulled back, he didn't move for a moment, just watching her. His thumb swept over her cheek. “Alright.”

She swallowed when he stood to go to his closet, and she followed suit, heading to the bathroom. After she used it, she eyed her mussed hair in the mirror while she washed her hands, and her gaze settled on the hickies on her neck. She sighed and turned the water off.

Thomas wasn't back yet when she went to bed, but she was cold and so burrowed into one side of the sheets regardless. He would return minutes later with clothes for them both, but she was already beginning to drift off, the fatigue of the day weighing her down.

It was at the corner of her consciousness that she heard him come in and chuckle when he saw her. The sheets were pulled up to her cheekbone. She didn't stir when he dipped down to kiss the side of her head, taking his spot in the bed beside her.

“G’night, sweetheart,” he whispered. She didn't move. Her breathing was slow. “Love you.”

The words didn't break her rest, but she heard them. She also heard him hesitate and inhale harshly, and she heard the way his voice slowed when he, again, said, “I love you.”

She would wake up and write it off as a dream.

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

*years 😶

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

Daveed Diggs - Rafael Casal

* For Smut - under 18 DNI! I Know Series

Part 1

Part 2*

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

I Knew Series (Unfinished)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Blurbs & Shorts & Prompts

Promise - Rafael x Reader

Always - Rafael x Reader

The Proposition - Rafael x Reader

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

I’m so late, but congratulations 🎉🍾🎈

I love you more ❤️❤️❤️

It's my 5 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

I started this blog 5 years ago and I’ve made some of the most amazing mutuals and I love y’all soo much!! Thanks for rocking with ya girl for five years 😊😊🥹🥹🥹

@ramp-it-up @iknowthekoolaidflavor @nikole-witha-k @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

"x black reader"

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

Reblog if you have made a friend online that you would love to hang with, but they live far away.

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

Cannot believe I forgot how much I love Layton! This was amazing ❤️❤️❤️

Hey! I love your writing so much can you do a Snowpiercer fic? 👀👀👀 Andre and Reader used to be a couple instead of him and Zarah

1,001 Cars 

Rating: M 18+ Minors DNI

Paring: Andre Layton x OFC Black!Reader (Paige Knight)

Summary: Paige and Andre see each other for the first time in years.

1,001 cars wasn’t long enough. It’s been four years since Paige has seen Andre. She didn’t even want to be on this God forsaken train but Andre insisted and back then she did any and everything for him. Well, now it was her turn to be selfish and fuck anyone who had a problem with it. 

She was probably the most hated person in the Tail behind Wilford, but she did what she had to do. A decent job in Third Class was enough for the two of them, it was far from the glamours lifestyle in First or even Second Class, but her small restaurant was better than fighting for small scrapes in the Tail that wasn’t what she imagined for them. 

Paige remembers the day clearly when they heard there was an opening in Third Class cooking. This was it. Their chance out of the Tail. Or at least she thought, when she told Andre of the news she hoped he would be excited to get ahead even if it’s just a little bit. Andre immediately shut her down, told her it was betraying the Tail and everything they stood for to leave it all behind.

“You really want me to turn my back on everyone back here. Just for some funky ass job in Third? Come the fuck on Paige.” Andre whispered loudly, so as not to wake the other Tailies trying to get their rest.

“We’re not turning our back, we—talked about starting a family before all this train shit. I don’t want to have a child in the Tail. I don’t want them growing up like this. What’s wrong with giving a child a better life?”

Andre sighed heavily, “We’re not leaving, not when we’re so close to this rebellion.” Now it was Paige’s turn to sigh

“Come on Andre, you’d rather risk your life for a rebellion than to better ourselves. First, it’s Third Class and then maybe I can finally get a teaching job in Second Class, and you can convince them to give you a job, you used to be a detective.” Paige pleaded, desperately wanting Andre to see her point of view. “Hot food, a shower, God knows how long it’s been since we’ve had good food.”

“You’d give up everything we’ve stood for, for food?” Andre asked, disappointed

“Andre, I’m tired. I didn’t even want to get on this fucking train, but you promised me that we’d get good tickets and look at us. Eating God damn rats!”

“Shush!” Someone whispered loudly

“We’re not leaving, end of discussion.”

“That’s it?”

“We’re on the brink of something here Paige, we can change how this train is run. Just believe in it, us, me. Change is coming to the train. I promise.”

Exhausted with the conversation, Paige merely nodded her head. There was nothing else to talk about.

“Do what you need to do, Andre.”

With that Andre kissed Paige before turning over to go to sleep. That would be the last time she would feel Andre’s lips on hers.

Paige can still hear the insults and the feel the judging eyes on her as she made her last walk in the Tail of the train to move to the Third Class. She remembers Andre not even saying goodbye to her or even being within eyesight. Paige held her head high despite the insults thrown at her, not even giving them a second glance, she left with Ruth forever leaving the Tail behind or at least she thought.

What started off as a job in Third Class led her to teaching the children of the Second Class. Paige started tutoring some children when she closed the restaurant in Third and word traveled that Paige would host weekly sessions with the children. Word moved throughout the train, and she was offered a job in the school which she graciously took. Paige missed being in the classroom, she was a second-grade teacher before Snowpiercer and is what she originally applied for when Andre suggested they get tickets for the train.

Life was going well for Paige until tragedy hit Second Class. A coworker of hers was found dead in her cabin and her right arm frozen solid. Paige found her body when she opened the school that day. She instantly knew there was foul play involved and immediately went to the police.

Paige was supposed to be interviewed by the new train detective after the school day. She had been on edge since finding the body, who could’ve done such a thing and why? Is this what Andre was talking about? The sound of knocks rapping against the door sliding open pulled Paige out of her thoughts. She straightened out her clothes and slide the door open, not prepared to the man standing on the other side.

“Paige Knight?”

“Um, yes.”

“I’m Bess Till and this is Detective Andre Layton. We have a few questions to ask about the death of Ciara Young.”

“Please, come in.” Paige couldn’t bear to look Andre in the eyes. The past couple of years haven’t been kind to him, she could see it all on his face.

“So, here’s how this is gonna go. Detective Layton is going to ask you some question and you’re going to answer those questions truthfully.” Paige nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Great, I’ll be standing outside the door while Detective Layton conducts his interview.”  Till removes the handcuffs off Andre’s wrist, before giving him a stern glance and leaving Paige’s suite.

“So, this is what selling out gets you.” Andre lamented as he rubbed his sore wrists.

“Just ask me your questions so you can get back and tell everyone how much of a traitor I am. I’m sure, Josie will love to hear that.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Whatever you want it to.”

“Let’s just cut to the chase, when was the last time you saw the victim—”

“Ciara, her name was Ciara Lane.” Andre looked up and saw that she was struggling to hold back tears.

“Sorry. When was the last time you saw Ciara alive?”

“Yesterday evening, we were having drinks in my suite and she left around 11:00 at night.”

“Was she intoxicated?”

“No, we only had two glasses of wine. We’re teachers, it takes more than two glasses to get us drunk.”

“Did she mention anyone else when she was leaving. Did she give any indication that she wasn’t going back to her suite.”

“No,” Paige answered quickly which Andre noticed but decided to leave it alone...for now.

“So, when did you find her?”

“Around 7:30 in the morning. We usually walk together, but she wasn’t in her suite. So I assumed she got an early start, that’s not uncommon. I can in her classroom there she was at her desk…strangled and her arm had been frozen and cut off.” Andre frowned.

“I would like to ask more questions but let’s go to your suite. Since that was the last place you saw her.” Andre suggested

Paige frowned, Andre motioned to the corner of the room where a security camera was watching and listening carefully.

“Okay, we’ve canceled school for the week, we need to find a new teacher. Do you need to ask permission or…?”

“I’ll handle it.” At that moment, Till entered the classroom.

“Finished?”

“I would like to visit Ms. Knight’s suite, as it was the last known location of the victim.”

“Very well,” Till roughly handcuffed Andre, Paige growing angry at the way she was treating Andre.

“I think they’re tight enough.” Till gave Paige a sarcastic tight-lipped smile. It was a silent walk from the classroom to Paige’s Second-Class suite.  Upon entering the room, Andre could smell lemongrass. Paige’s favorite scent, he remembered her apartment always smelling like lemongrass.

“I know all about your history with Mr. Layton here. So don’t try any funny business.” Till said before stepping out of the suite.

“No one’s been in here since the murder, right?” Andre asked, searching her living space.

“No, not that I know of. What are you looking for?”

“Anything that could point me to where Ciara might’ve gone.” Andre noticed an outplace vase on the mantle.

“Have you always had that?”

“Hmm, I’ve never noticed it, no I don’t remember getting that.” Andre grabbed the glass case and found a microphone inside.

“What the fuck—” Andre held up a finger to his lips, signaling her to not speak.

“Can I get some water please?”

“Sure,” Paige quickly poured Andre a glass of water he then put the microphone in the glass.

“Someone’s been listening to your conversations. Do you have any idea why?”

“No, I don’t all I do is go to work and come home.”

“Withholding information can land you in serious trouble. Who knows what fucked up ways they have of making you talk. If you know something you gotta tell me.” Paige sighed as she plopped down on the sofa.

“Ciara was talking about a Rebellion; she had a contact in Third Class. I told her to be careful,” She lamented.

“What happened the last time you saw her?”

“She came over after school and she was talking about the Rebellion finally starting. She said she was getting notes at her door…warnings. She was going to meet her contact in Third and I told her to be careful, there are eyes and ears everywhere. I begged her to stay the night, said she would be fine. When she left a man was waiting for her outside, her contact from the Third class.”

“Did you get his name?”

“Cole. Cole Peterson. That was the last time I saw her.” Andre could see the sadness on her face and couldn’t help but feel bad for her.

“I promise Paige, I’m gonna find her killer and make sure that she gets justice.” Before Paige could answer, the door burst open.

“Ma’am you can’t go in there.”

“Ma’am I told you I’m dropping her daughter off.” A girl no more than three years old, came running into the room. A head full of curls bouncing with each movement.

“Mommy!” the girl said, launching herself into Paige’s arms.

“What happened?” Paige asked looking at the woman.

“She got sick and then I went by your classroom…” while the woman whom Andre assumed to be a daycare worked explained the situation all he could do was stare at the young child and realize how much she looked like him. She couldn’t be, could she? It’s been almost four years since he’s seen Paige, this little girl could very well be his daughter.

“Mommy, who’s that?” The little girl asked, Andre locked eyes with Paige, one question on his mind. Knowing what thought loomed in his head, Paige nodded in confirmation.

“Thanks for bringing her home,” Paige said to the daycare worker.

“No problem, let me know how she’s feeling.” Once again they were alone, the tension in the air thick.

“Mommy, who is that?”

“He’s your Daddy. Andre, meet your daughter, Aaliyah.”

Tagging: @nikole-witha-k @iknowthekoolaidflavor @ramp-it-up @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @blackpinup22 @chrisevanswife0405 @mellie-teh-goblin-queen @azxulaa@luckyfriess @thatdamnlyssa @endless-romantic-stories @daveeds-wife @emilia-i @gothic-slaherfan-weeb@slashersluxsworld @chattykathysquietsister @aliyahsomerhalder @crystalannetem @tuhnayshuh

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

COMMENT ON OLD FICS, I BEG YOU!

I swear to god after like a week people will still be reading but nobody leaves comments anymore and I just want to make it absolutely clear that I would be excited and elated to get a comment on these fics one hundred years after I post them.

A FIC IS NEVER TOO OLD TO LEAVE A NICE COMMENT ON. GO FORTH AND COMMENT!

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

Blindspotting - Collin HCs

Y/N was devastated when Collin left Oakland without a trace. Now it's New Years and he's back. Set after season 2 of Blindspotting.

You were dating Collin for two years before he disappeared

Miles was the one to break the news to you and Nancy called you right after

She was as heartbroken as you were

You were heartbroken to say the least. You tried to so hard to rationalize what he was dealing with, but after all you had been through together? Leaving without a goodbye or contact info?

The love you had for Collin didn't fade, but you were still angry as fuck

You were angry at Collin, the police officer and the system that often paints them as heroes as Collin as a criminal. You wanted it all to burn.

Janelle convinced to take boxing lessons with her to channel your anger.

Every minute in your shared apartment reminded you of him. You didn't have it in you to move his things

Collin left most of his items at the apartment. Only a few pairs of clothing were missing

When you came home the day he left, you noticed the framed photo of you two sitting on the dresser. The picture was supposed to be in the living room.

There were times you stressed, thinking about his whereabouts and if he was safe

Sean asked you about Collin all the time. He was convinced Uncle Collin was communicating with you while he was away

You and Ashley were stuck in a hard place. She didn't get to tell him about Miles yet, so you decided to pretend

Sean believed Collin was on an adventure for work, meeting new people, and saving the day (he came back with a biker gang, so you weren't completely wrong)

You spent more time with Nancy and Janelle because you all missed him and would often lean on each other for support

This led to road trips and yoga classes together. They didn't want you to forget you were still a part of their family whether Collin was there or not

On New Years, just as the clock struck midnight, you were on your fourth drink. Miles and Ashley were having a moment upstairs

Janelle convinced you you needed another shot and just as you were ready to down it, she froze

"Nelle? You good?"

You finally turned around to see Collin standing in the doorway of the kitchen

He looked different. Tired. Anxious. His braids were now locs that passed his shoulders and his beard reminded you of a caveman. He wore a leather jacket and boots that reminded you of a biker gang (unbeknownst to you)

Janelle was the first to move to greet her brother. Everyone else stepped in to greet him, asking how and where he's been

He answered their questions as efficiently as he, refusing to break eye contact with you. All Collin wanted in that moment was you

It was hot as fuck, but you were still upset

Once everyone left him alone, Janelle handed him her shot, threw a pointed look your way and left

Collin couldn't move and neither could you

After all this time, you were still the most beautiful women in the world

He raised his glass, then took his shot. You did the same

He finally moved from the doorway and pulled you close

"Please don't let me go", you begged

"I won't"

Collin held you for as long as he could, leaving a trail of soft kisses on your forehead

More people entered the kitchen to see you and Collin in your own world, holding each other in silence

All the anger and frustration faded, that was a conversation for another time

For now, you were happy to be back in his arms

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

Every Kind of Way

Prompt: On the way to a friend’s house, during a blizzard, you end up stuck in a cabin with Daveed’s family…or as I like to call it Rose doesn’t know how to finish her other projects, so she wrote something else.

Part 9

Pairing: alpha!werewolf!daveed x omega!reader

Tagging: @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @ramp-it-up @sebastianabucknettastan @wtfhell @sillyteecup

You refused to leave your room for the remainder of the day. Jasmine and Rafa came by to get you to open the door, but you wouldn’t budge. It felt like you couldn’t move no matter how hard you tried. It was an uphill battle you refused to fight. How could your soulmate of all people make you feel this shitty? How could he be so careless?

You sat in the corner of the room, away from the bed where Daveed claimed you. The room wreaked of him and created its own form of torture, but you had no where else to turn. 

Daveed sat on the other side of the door, contemplating knocking the door over so he could hold you close and never let go. All Rafa could do was bring him dinner and wait for his next move. He wouldn’t tell his best friend how bad he messed things up between the two of you. Daveed’s heart was in the right place, but his timing was awful.

“You need a shower”, Jasmine sneered as she grabbed the bowl from the floor

Daveed didn’t respond.

“She can probably smell your stench through the door”

It was enough to catch Daveed’s attention. He knew if you decided to finally come out, he didn’t want you seeing him in this condition. Yes, he was an absolute wreck, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t shower.

“I’ll talk to her, but I can’t promise you anything for being an ass”

He quietly thanked Jasmine as he got up. 

“(Y/N), I’m coming in”

Jasmine stepped in the quiet room. You were sitting on the floor with your knees pressed to your chest. You never looked or felt so small. She sat next to you as you tried to steady your breathing.

“He’s not at the door anymore. I sent him away”

“Good”, you sighed, “I don’t want to see him again”

“Well what happened?”

Jasmine took in your quietness and convinced you to leave the house, away from all the alphas…and Rafa. They were desperate to figure out what happened between the new, happy couple. Jasmine held your hand tight as you distanced yourself from the house and away from your soulmate.

“We ran into Benji yesterday”, you started, “He said that Daveed only marked me to keep him from getting to me. The same day Daveed ran into Benji was the same day Daveed marked me. It doesn’t feel like a coincidence”

“How do you feel?”

“I feel stupid for letting him in”

“You’re not stupid. You opened up to someone you trusted and they made a bad decision…a really bad decision. I don’t think Daveed was trying to be malicious. He was just being--”

“A stupid alpha”

“Well yeah”, she laughed, “We can be really stupid when our mates are involved, but that doesn’t change anything. What do you need?”

You thought the question over. There were so many things you needed in that moment, it was difficult keeping track of them all.

“I need space, some time for me to think things over, I want to punch something, I want someone to hold me, and I want people to stop trying to figure out what happened. We’ll talk about it when we’re ready”

Jasmine pulled you in and held you tight, “I’m sorry”

“It’s not your fault. Not all alphas are stupid”

“I’ll take it”

The air grew tense in a matter of moments. The same familiar stench you were accustomed to filled your nostrils. Jasmine sensed it too and pulled you behind her. You both stopped to talk right where the forest began. There was enough space between you and Daveed.

“Do you think I’m a stupid alpha?”

Jasmine was always used to keeping a calm, collected demeanor, but Benji’s presence always pushed her buttons.

“Soooooooo, how are things with you and your precious alpha? I was only trying to help darling”

You held on to Jasmine’s arm as you took a deep breath. Benji waited with a sickening smirk on his face. He wanted to see how uncomfortable you were now that he attempted to come between you and your soulmate. You were so tired of his constant meddling. You were never going to be his. You would rather die.

Without saying a word, you launched a rock with as much strength you could muster. It didn’t take much, given much you truly hated him. Your quickness surprised all three of you. The rock connected with Benji’s eye, ensuring a black eye in its wake.

Benji screamed as he took a step back, holding his eye and grimacing.

“Nice shot”, Jas smiled as she stepped back, as much as she wanted to knock him out, she wouldn’t risk putting you in danger. Benji was too unpredictable.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”, he yelled, “I told your family-

Benji was taken aback as he took in your laughter. You had the nerve to laugh at him and it made his blood boil.

“The moment you became more trouble than you were worth, I would take things into my own hands…and here we are”

Benji took a step past the woods and walked onto Daveed’s territory. Jasmine growled as her eyes glowed.

“(Y/N) run”

By the time you turned to run, Daveed jumped in front of you on all fours. The look in your eyes told you to keep running and don’t stop until you made it to the house. Once you reached the door, Oak, Rafa, and the rest of the alphas were already running out the door. Anthony tried to pull you inside, but you couldn’t move until you knew Daveed and your pack were okay.

The entire pack formed a line in front of Benji, daring him to take a step forward. Benji knew he was outnumbered. You didn’t think he would be dumb enough to challenge a pack of alphas and yet he proved you wrong. He charged at Daveed with full force, knocking him to the ground. Your heart stopped in your chest.

Get up. Please get up.

Benji tried to take a bite from his neck while he was down, but Daveed was quicker than you thought. He lunged for Benji’s tail and pulled until he was at the edge of the woods. Benji writhed in pain as the rest of the pack surrounded him, preventing him from making a break for it. Daveed’s teeth sunk deeper into his tail and connected with the bone. With one final pull, Daveed was able to swing Benji by the tail past the edge of the woods with one spine tingling howl. 

Benji limped with his tail between his legs back to where he came from. Daveed was the first to move towards the house. Just like your first night there, he stood on his hind legs to reach the porch. His big brown eyes looked sad as if he didn’t know what to do next. You took a step forward and rubbed the bridge of his nose. You sealed the gentle touch with a kiss. 

Daveed took a step back and by the time he reached the stairs, he was back to his human form. He didn’t care that you didn’t want to speak to him, he just needed to know that you were safe and Benji couldn’t get to you.

“You threw a rock…at his face”

“You almost ripped his tail off”, you smirked

He pulled you in for a hug, refusing to let you go. 

For now, it was enough.

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

Every Kind of Way

Prompt: On the way to a friend’s house, during a blizzard, you end up stuck in a cabin with Daveed’s family…or as I like to call it Rose doesn’t know how to finish her other projects, so she wrote something else.

Part 9

Pairing: alpha!werewolf!daveed x omega!reader

Tagging: @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @ramp-it-up @sebastianabucknettastan @wtfhell @sillyteecup

You refused to leave your room for the remainder of the day. Jasmine and Rafa came by to get you to open the door, but you wouldn’t budge. It felt like you couldn’t move no matter how hard you tried. It was an uphill battle you refused to fight. How could your soulmate of all people make you feel this shitty? How could he be so careless?

You sat in the corner of the room, away from the bed where Daveed claimed you. The room wreaked of him and created its own form of torture, but you had no where else to turn. 

Daveed sat on the other side of the door, contemplating knocking the door over so he could hold you close and never let go. All Rafa could do was bring him dinner and wait for his next move. He wouldn’t tell his best friend how bad he messed things up between the two of you. Daveed’s heart was in the right place, but his timing was awful.

“You need a shower”, Jasmine sneered as she grabbed the bowl from the floor

Daveed didn’t respond.

“She can probably smell your stench through the door”

It was enough to catch Daveed’s attention. He knew if you decided to finally come out, he didn’t want you seeing him in this condition. Yes, he was an absolute wreck, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t shower.

“I’ll talk to her, but I can’t promise you anything for being an ass”

He quietly thanked Jasmine as he got up. 

“(Y/N), I’m coming in”

Jasmine stepped in the quiet room. You were sitting on the floor with your knees pressed to your chest. You never looked or felt so small. She sat next to you as you tried to steady your breathing.

“He’s not at the door anymore. I sent him away”

“Good”, you sighed, “I don’t want to see him again”

“Well what happened?”

Jasmine took in your quietness and convinced you to leave the house, away from all the alphas…and Rafa. They were desperate to figure out what happened between the new, happy couple. Jasmine held your hand tight as you distanced yourself from the house and away from your soulmate.

“We ran into Benji yesterday”, you started, “He said that Daveed only marked me to keep him from getting to me. The same day Daveed ran into Benji was the same day Daveed marked me. It doesn’t feel like a coincidence”

“How do you feel?”

“I feel stupid for letting him in”

“You’re not stupid. You opened up to someone you trusted and they made a bad decision…a really bad decision. I don’t think Daveed was trying to be malicious. He was just being--”

“A stupid alpha”

“Well yeah”, she laughed, “We can be really stupid when our mates are involved, but that doesn’t change anything. What do you need?”

You thought the question over. There were so many things you needed in that moment, it was difficult keeping track of them all.

“I need space, some time for me to think things over, I want to punch something, I want someone to hold me, and I want people to stop trying to figure out what happened. We’ll talk about it when we’re ready”

Jasmine pulled you in and held you tight, “I’m sorry”

“It’s not your fault. Not all alphas are stupid”

“I’ll take it”

The air grew tense in a matter of moments. The same familiar stench you were accustomed to filled your nostrils. Jasmine sensed it too and pulled you behind her. You both stopped to talk right where the forest began. There was enough space between you and Daveed.

“Do you think I’m a stupid alpha?”

Jasmine was always used to keeping a calm, collected demeanor, but Benji’s presence always pushed her buttons.

“Soooooooo, how are things with you and your precious alpha? I was only trying to help darling”

You held on to Jasmine’s arm as you took a deep breath. Benji waited with a sickening smirk on his face. He wanted to see how uncomfortable you were now that he attempted to come between you and your soulmate. You were so tired of his constant meddling. You were never going to be his. You would rather die.

Without saying a word, you launched a rock with as much strength you could muster. It didn’t take much, given much you truly hated him. Your quickness surprised all three of you. The rock connected with Benji’s eye, ensuring a black eye in its wake.

Benji screamed as he took a step back, holding his eye and grimacing.

“Nice shot”, Jas smiled as she stepped back, as much as she wanted to knock him out, she wouldn’t risk putting you in danger. Benji was too unpredictable.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”, he yelled, “I told your family-

Benji was taken aback as he took in your laughter. You had the nerve to laugh at him and it made his blood boil.

“The moment you became more trouble than you were worth, I would take things into my own hands…and here we are”

Benji took a step past the woods and walked onto Daveed’s territory. Jasmine growled as her eyes glowed.

“(Y/N) run”

By the time you turned to run, Daveed jumped in front of you on all fours. The look in your eyes told you to keep running and don’t stop until you made it to the house. Once you reached the door, Oak, Rafa, and the rest of the alphas were already running out the door. Anthony tried to pull you inside, but you couldn’t move until you knew Daveed and your pack were okay.

The entire pack formed a line in front of Benji, daring him to take a step forward. Benji knew he was outnumbered. You didn’t think he would be dumb enough to challenge a pack of alphas and yet he proved you wrong. He charged at Daveed with full force, knocking him to the ground. Your heart stopped in your chest.

Get up. Please get up.

Benji tried to take a bite from his neck while he was down, but Daveed was quicker than you thought. He lunged for Benji’s tail and pulled until he was at the edge of the woods. Benji writhed in pain as the rest of the pack surrounded him, preventing him from making a break for it. Daveed’s teeth sunk deeper into his tail and connected with the bone. With one final pull, Daveed was able to swing Benji by the tail past the edge of the woods with one spine tingling howl. 

Benji limped with his tail between his legs back to where he came from. Daveed was the first to move towards the house. Just like your first night there, he stood on his hind legs to reach the porch. His big brown eyes looked sad as if he didn’t know what to do next. You took a step forward and rubbed the bridge of his nose. You sealed the gentle touch with a kiss. 

Daveed took a step back and by the time he reached the stairs, he was back to his human form. He didn’t care that you didn’t want to speak to him, he just needed to know that you were safe and Benji couldn’t get to you.

“You threw a rock…at his face”

“You almost ripped his tail off”, you smirked

He pulled you in for a hug, refusing to let you go. 

For now, it was enough.

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

Thankkssssss! This just reminded me to post it lmao

Hey friends! It’s been a while. I’ve slowly been finding my way back to writing and finished the next part to Every Kind of Way. Be on the lookout tonight or tomorrow ☺️

How have you guys been?

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

Alsoooooo!

To everyone that has sent in their Drabble requests, I see you and I will be getting that as well.

Hey friends! It’s been a while. I’ve slowly been finding my way back to writing and finished the next part to Every Kind of Way. Be on the lookout tonight or tomorrow ☺️

How have you guys been?

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

Hey friends! It’s been a while. I’ve slowly been finding my way back to writing and finished the next part to Every Kind of Way. Be on the lookout tonight or tomorrow ☺️

How have you guys been?

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

I was NOT expecting that ending. The drammaaaaaas 😨

Hi I was the anon that sent in the ask for ‘Confessions’ and it was so good!😭✨ I loved the angst and feel for both the reader and yes, even Daveed a little🙄 lol. If it’s not to much to ask, would it be possible to request a part 2? Maybe Rafa feeling guilty for running his big mouth and possibly ruining on the greatest things to happen to his best friend. I could see him being guilty but also sick of seeing Daveed camping on his couch in sadness and he know he has to help his friend win his girl back✨💗 no pressure or anything you’re literally one of my favorite writers on here and I love you work and for keeping the Daveed thirst fandom alive!

Confessions Part Two

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x OFC!Black Reader (Kenya Wright), Rafael Casal x OFC!Black!Reader (Kenya Wright) 👀👀

Rating: M for language, smut (oral m receiving, unprotected sex, drunk/intoxicated sex) alcohol and drug use 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: It’s been a month since Daveed and Kenya ended things, feeling guilty for having a part in the breakup, Rafael tries to get his friends back together.

Requested: Yes, by Anon

Word Count: 4K

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

AN: Anon I’m so happy you enjoyed the first part!! A very, very tiny piece of me felt bad for Daveed but then again he did old girl hella dirty. I gave the Reader a name and I’ll be editing the other part with her name. I hope you enjoy this second part.

Confessions Pt. One

December 2022

“Coming up next on Lifetime it’s a Liddell Christmas Movie Marathon! First up is Merry Liddell Christmas, then Merry Liddell Christmas Wedding, and lastly Merry Liddell Christmas Baby—“ Kenya shut off the TV she was not in the Holiday spirit this year. She didn’t even put her decorations not that she had a lot of decorations in the first place, but she would put up something to make the house look a bit more festive. After what happened on Friendsgiving, she didn’t want to celebrate anything. Daveed had been calling and texting her that next day it took her a week to block him. Kenya didn’t want to hear anything he had to say, she heard what she needed to hear. Even though it pained her, she had to cut him off, even as far as having Rafael pick up Daveed's things from her place, she was mad at him too because he knew everything. That day when he came by the house to get his friend’s things, Kenya had all of this stuff neatly placed in a bag by the front door and she even asked for the key back

Kenya glanced at the clock on her dresser and saw that it was almost 10:00 she had to show a client a home in Calabasas at 1:00 she whined in irritation before dragging herself out of bed. Kenya was in her closet trying to figure out what to wear when her pine started to ring, she blindly answered the phone continuing to try on different outfits.

“Kenya Wright of The Wright Home Real Estate, how may I help you today?”

“Look at you sounding professional and shit, what house can you find me for $300,000 in LA?” Her best friend, Keyari's voice said over the speaker

“I can find you a box on the side of the road, what do you want Key?”

“I wanted to see if you wanted to have dinner tonight because you walking around like someone took your lunch money.”

“I mean can you blame me?”

“No, not really. They lucky I wasn’t there I would’ve swung on a bitch.”

“I know Key, I know.”

“How are you though?”

“Ehh, it’s day by day, to be honest, sometimes I’m good and barely think about him and then most days I can’t get him out of my mind.”

“You know I’m still down for slashing some tires.”

“Keyari, we can’t slash niggas tires.” Kenya laughed

“We can if we want to, but should we? That’s where it gets murky.”

“Ain’t nothing murky about it, we can’t do that shit.”

“Not if you only slash three tires,”

“Key!”

“Alright, are you coming with me to dinner or not?”

“Yes, what time?”

“7:30 at that new oyster place. I can come by and we’ll ride together.”

“Sounds good Key!”

“Okay sis, I’ll see you later.”

“Okay Key, bye.”

Daveed wasn’t doing much better, he’s been sleeping on Rafa’s couch since Kenya kicked him out. Sulking around LA and it was driving Rafa crazy. Rafa felt like shit, if he hadn’t opened his big mouth in the first place Daveed and Kenya would still be together, Daveed was the happiest he’s ever been when he was with Kenya and now he's back to where he was before he met her.

Daveed kept replaying the look on Kenya’s face that night, she looked so hurt and broken and he was the cause of that. He had a small silver lining of hope but all of that faded away when Kenya texted Rafa to pick up Daveed’s things. He couldn’t describe the feeling when he saw Rafa return with a suitcase of his belongings. What really hurt Daveed the most was that he wasn’t even mad at her, he knew what he did was wrong.

For about a month Daveed wallowed in his self-pity, refusing to shower or even eat most days. He even stopped making new music which is something that he never does. Rafa had enough of it, he was only doing this for Daveed’s own good. Rafa creaked open his bedroom door, from his room he could see right into the living room and Daveed was still sleeping…at noon. He burst out of his bedroom making the most obnoxious noise he could, startling his friend awake.

“Diggs, come on man you gotta get up, change your clothes, take a shower. I mean, even Mia don’t want to be around you.” Rafa said Daveed glanced down at the dog who probably smelled better than Daveed does right now

“Bruh, I don’t feel like it. What’s the point? I lost Kenya and I don’t think I can get her back and I would’ve blamed her if she didn’t.”

“Okay, this self-pity shit ain’t working. I’m going out to run some errands you’re on dog duty.”

“You can’t take her?”

“No, so take a shower and take Mia out for a walk, you both need it.” Rafa grabbed his keys left the house leaving Daveed and Mia

“So, I guess it’s just you and me. Maybe we can walk around the backyard,” Daveed suggested Mia growled lowly

“Fine, we’re going to the park.”

Daveed walked around the park Mia leading him wherever she wanted to go. It was a beautiful day but Daveed couldn’t even pay attention to that his mind was preoccupied with something else. Maybe he should try calling her would she even answer the phone, shut probably blocked him by now. Mia abruptly stopped walking and sniffed the air before taking off. Daveed wasn’t paying attention and the leash slipped out of his hand.

“Mia!” Daveed called out as he chased after the dog

“Here’s your change ma’am.” The man said

“No it’s fine, keep the change.” Kenya insisted

“Thank you, enjoy the rest of your day.” Kenya smiled back at the man before walking away with her Italian ice. She’s not sure what prompted her to come to this particular park, she used to meet Daveed here if they both had a break in their day and meet for lunch or just a quick walk around the park. Kenya shook the thoughts from her head, that was before everything went down last month, she can’t keep doing this to herself. She’ll take steps toward moving on then she’ll think back to when she and Daveed were together. She heard a dog barking and her head snapped up, that sounded like Mia. She whipped her body and saw the dog running up to her.

“Mia? What are you doing here girl?” Kenya greeted the dog who was just as excited to see her, tail wagging frantically

“Mia! There you are!” Kenya looked up and saw Daveed standing in front of her. He froze when their eyes met for the first time in a month. He cleared his throat before grabbing hold of the leash.

“Sorry about that, come on Mia.” The dog whined not wanting to leave

“It’s fine, she just misses me,” She said softly, still playing with Mia. “Isn’t that right Mia? I missed you too.” Kenya continued playing with the dog, Daveed looked and couldn’t help but smile, god what he wouldn’t do to see her smile and laugh again. That was probably his favorite thing about her, her smile, it could light up the entire room.

“Well, I better get her back to feed her you know,” Daveed mumbled under his breath.

“Daveed,” Kenya called out. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it immediately. She doesn’t know what to say, she can’t ask how has he been, she can clearly that he’s not okay, his beard was a bit more full than it was last month. His hair wasn’t done like it usually is, it’s like he stopped caring. Then again, why should she say anything at all? It wasn’t what was said that ruined

“Can I ask you a question?” He nodded his head for her to go on “Was any of it real?” Daveed sighed heavily

“Yes, Kenya. It was so real for me, I-I-I wish it never happened, all of it.” Daveed reached out to her but she backed away

“This isn’t something that can be wished away, I trusted you. You were my family, my home.”

“Kenya, I’m so sorry you didn’t deserve this at all. I should’ve been honest with you from the beginning—” Kenya put her hand up to stop him

“Don’t say what you couldn’t a month ago. Daveed, I—” Kenya looked away because she looked at him any longer should start crying and she didn’t want to give him that or anything for that matter. “There’s nothing else that can be said, Daveed.”

“So, I guess this is it?”

“Yep, take care of yourself Daveed.”

“You too, Kenya.” Daveed watched sadly as the best thing that ever happened to him walked out of his life forever. That’s when he heard a low rumbling of thunder and an idea came to him“Ken! Do you want a ride? I don’t mind taking you,” Kenya looked up at the sky and saw the dark clouds coming in fast, she would be drenched before she even made it back to her job.

“Sure,”

What started as an ‘innocent’ car ride, led to Kenya telling Daveed he left something else at her house which lead to a couple of bottles of wine being consumed and ultimately led to their current predicament. Kenya moaned aloud as Daveed bounced her up and down in his lap on her living room sofa. One thing led to another and here they were. Kenya would be lying if she said she didn’t miss the sex. Kenya snapped her head up when Daveed stopped moving, he place his hands behind his head giving her a smirk.

“Ride,” he commanded. Kenya placed her hands on his shoulders as leverage as she slowly rode him since he wanted to play dirty she had something for his ass. Daveed let out a chorus of moans he reached up and played with her nipples causing her to cry out.

“Fuck Daveed! ‘M close,” She breathed out she began to bounce a bit faster and harder

“Me too,” Daveed took control again by grabbing her thighs and thrusting his hips up chasing his own release at this point. Two, three more thrusts, and both of them groaned reaching their peak, Kenya slumped against Daveed’s bare chest, trying to regain her breath. She carefully got off his lap and started to put her clothes back on. Daveed lingered a bit before he too started to get dressed.

“You should probably head out, Keyari’s coming over soon,” Kenya said absentmindedly

“Hold up, hold up, hold up, that’s it? We not gonna talk or try to figure anything out?”

“Figure what out?” Kenya questioned

“This, us. Kenya, I—I want to be with you.”

“Daveed, I can’t, I can’t look at you the same. When I look in your eyes I keep thinking about the lie that would’ve kept going if I hadn’t found out.”

“So you can fuck me but don’t want to be with me?” Daveed asked accusingly

“Don’t do that! You don’t get to do that to me not after what that bullshit you pulled.”

“You ain’t even fight for us! You asked me if I cared about you? Was I just some meal ticket to you?” Kenya frowned

“Nigga I know you fuckin lying, you really wanna go there Daveed?”

“When we met you just passed your real estate exam. Most of the clients you have are because of me! Shit those clients helped pay for this house!”

“That you lived in nigga! What the fuck are you trying to say?”

“I’m just saying, now that you got some money it wasn’t that hard to let go of the relationship. You didn’t need me anymore.”

“Get the fuck out Daveed!”

“Gladly,” Daveed grabbed his keys and stormed out of the house slamming the door shut behind him. Kenya scoffed in disbelief, she couldn’t believe him. A bark pulled her out of his thoughts, damn it Daveed fucking forgot Mia.

“God damn it,” she muttered under her breath. She opened her back door and she ran inside searching for Daveed. Loud knocks at your door made you roll your eyes. She stomped to the door and opened it, not surprised to see Daveed on the other side.

“You forgot something,”

“You said that before you want me to fuck you again?”

“Get the damn dog and go Daveed.”

“Mia!” The dog ran to Daveed and Kenya slammed the door shut

Kenya placed the phone down on her nightstand and downed the rest of her glass of wine. She wasn’t in the mood to go out with Keyari. She knew it wasn’t a good idea to invite Daveed but she—she wanted to be with him just one last time, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss him. She thought about him all the time, but she just can’t forgive him. Every time he would look at her she would think back to that night. This is what she gets for being vulnerable she took a chance when she met Daveed and look where it led her. Now that she thinks of it, fucked Daveed, he doesn’t care about her the way she thought he did. She’s done being sad, she not gonna give him that satisfaction. He doesn’t deserve it.

Rafa opened the door and sighed heavily seeing that all the lights were off. Damn. Maybe his plan didn’t work out after all. He turned on the light expecting to see Daveed on the couch but raised an eyebrow upon seeing the empty space. Now that he thinks of it, it’s a bit too quiet in his house.

“Diggs? Bro, you here?” Mia ran over to Rafael happy to see him after the long day, tail wagging, barking excitedly.

“Where’s Daveed, Mia? Huh, where’d he go?” Rafa walked further into the house and saw a note on the counter in his kitchen

Went to my Mom’s.

Thanks for letting me crash.

-Diggs

Rafael sighed heavily, he pulled out his phone and called Daveed, he was sent straight to voicemail, Rafa called him again, and just like the first time he was sent straight then he received a text from Daveed

I’m good bruh. Don’t feel like talking. Talk later

Rafa grabbed his car keys and raced out of the house he had to fix this somehow.

“I don’t know, only God knows where the story ends for me But I know where the story begins. It’s up to us to choose whether we win or lose.” Kenya sang loudly, she was on her fourth glass of Merlot and didn’t care. Then as if out of nowhere, Kenya’s mind thought back to when she and Daveed went to Trap Karaoke for a date. Kenya shook the thought of out her he’d she hated when little memories popped in her head, she was done with nostalgia. Kenya’s Drunk World Tour was cut shirt when frantic knocks were rapped against her door. She rolled her eyes, Daveed’s got some nerve coming to her house again. Kenya turned off the music and marched toward the door and swung it open

“Daveed you got some nerve—“ Kenya stumbled back slightly when she saw Rafa on her doorstep

“Oh, the fuck you want?” Kenya asked with a raised eyebrow

“Kenya, can I come in please?”

“No, I’m mad at your ass too Rafael.”

“Damn, Rafael? You haven’t called me that since we met,” he tried to joke, he cleared his throat when he saw the unamused look on her face

“You know I kinda wish I can go back to that night, I would’ve never talked to you or your trifling ass friend.” Kenya slurred slightly

“Look, Kenya I’m so sorry I really hadn’t opened my mouth I was fucking drunk can I please come in so we can talk. Please?” Kenya sighed heavily giving in

“Fine,”

“So what do you want?” Kenya asked pouring the two of them a glass of wine

“Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do—“ Kenya cut him off with a loud sigh “Kenya, I know what Daveed and I did when y’all first met was fucked up but give Daveed another chance, he’s been walking around like a sad puppy.” Kenya hummed condescendingly

“I don’t know what Daveed told you after he left here but if he put you up to this instead of comin over here and apologizing to my face he can miss me with all that bull shit! Daveed’s a grown-ass man he knows how to communicate.” Kenya stood up to leave

“Kenya—”

“Nope, I don’t wanna hear it!”

“Kenya, sit down!”

“I’m pretty sure Daveed’s sob story was very convincing but save it for the next bitch—”

“Kenya, sit down.” Rafael said firmly Kenya went wide-eyed and sat down on the barstool

“I’m not saying you gotta get back together with him but Kenya he really did love you. That part wasn’t fake. I’ve seen Diggs with other girls and he wasn’t doing half the shit he was doing when y’all were together. Just talk to him.”

“If you had come over before today I probably would but after our fight—”

“Fight?”

“I ran into him at the park today while he was walking Mia. We came back here because he left some of his records. He wanted to talk about getting back together one thing led to another and he accused me of only getting with him because he has money.”

“Diggs said that?” Rafa asked shocked

“Yep, so when I say this Rafa, I mean it. I’m no longer interested.”

“Damn, I just figured…”

“You’re a good friend, a damn good one but I’m moving on.” Rafa smiled softly

“I can respect that, I’m so sorry Ken, I feel like this is all my fault.”

“Don’t blame yourself. Daveed and I were already having problems, that shit was the icing on the fucking cake.”

“I know but, if I hadn’t said anything—”

“It would’ve come out eventually,” Kenya reassured

“So I guess you’re gonna kick me out now?” Rafa joked making Kenya chuckle “There’s that smile!”

“if you want to leave that’s fine, you gotta report back to your friend?” Kenya teased

“Diggs left, he’s staying with his mom now.”

“Oh,” There was a brief silence between the two of them before Kenya spoke up

“You wanna smoke?”

“Hell yeah,”

After smoking two blunts and drinking whatever brown liquor you had on your bar cart, Kenya and Rafa sat at the kitchen island eating the pizza and wings they had just ordered. Kenya was actually having a good time she didn’t realize how much she missed her friendship with Rafa that’s why she was so hurt when everything went down. Kenya and Daveed were already having some relationship issues before Friendsgiving but to have Rafa know about the bet the entire time, it hurt her feelings.

“So what did Keyari do when you told her?”

“Oh, she wanted to fuck Daveed up, she still does.”

“Man I’m glad she wasn't here I don’t think I could handle both of you being pissed off.”

“Keyari probably would’ve swung,” Kenya laughed

“I hope we can still be friends, Kenya. I know you’re still mad at me but when you stop being mad I still want to be your friend even if you’re not with Daveed.”

“I’m definitely still mad at your ass Rafa, but I guess you’re alright.” She said playfully pushing his shoulder. Rafa grabbed her hand and smiled at her. Before she knew it they were leaning in their lips meeting in a kiss. Like a hand touching a flame, Rafa jumped back. Did he really just kiss his best friend’s ex?

“I don’t think we should do this,” Rafa breathed

“Then don’t think about it,” Kenya crashed her lips onto his, they both knew this was wrong but they couldn’t bring themselves to stop. Rafa walked them out of the kitchen until they reached her sofa. Kenya pulled back first and pushed Rafa down onto the shoulder, she bit her lip in anticipation. She sank to her knees and rubbed Rafa’s thighs while pulling his zipper down with her teeth

“What about Daveed?” Rafa breathed out

“You gonna tell him?” Kenya asked looking up at him as she undid the belt of his pants

“Fuck no,” Rafa assisted you in pulling down his jeans and boxers, Kenya grabbed his dick and slowly started to stroke him, Rafa let his head fall back. A million thoughts were running through her head that was shouting t her “This is a terrible idea!” “Stop, this is Daveed’s best friend!” But Kenya pushed those thoughts out the way Daveed had hurt her and she wanted to hurt him too. She placed a gentle kiss on the head before taking him all in her mouth.

“FUCK!” Kenya nodded her head up and down stopping to occasionally suck on the tip before sinking back to the base. Rafa grabbed her hair and started to thrust his hips up into her mouth making her gag.

“Shit, I’m about to come,” Kenya slowly pulled off Rafa grabbed her and pulled her up, and kissed her roughly. Rafa flipped them over, ripped her leggings off, and moved her panties out f the way before thrusting his dick into her Kenya winced slightly at the roughness but she Kenya moaned aloud when Rafa placed his liege on her shoulders and mercilessly thrust his hips into her.

“Fuck, Rafa! Don’t stop,” Kenya reached down and started to rub her clit she wasn’t far from her orgasm and by the way Rafa’s thrusts were becoming sloppier, neither was he. He came with a groan and Kenya followed Hartley after. Rafa panted trying to regain his breath and for the first time since they kissed Rafa and Kenya locked eyes and realization hit them. Rafael pulled out of Kenya and she immediately grabbed the throw blanket and wrapped herself with it. Rafael got dressed in silence neither of them wanting to look at each other.

“I’ll see myself out,” Rafa muttered under his breath

“Okay,” Kenya said quietly. “I don’t think we should hang out anymore,” Kenya said refusing to look at her friend

“Yeah, I um, think that’s a good idea. Goodbye Kenya,”

“Bye Rafael,” Kenya didn’t move from the couch until she heard her front door close. She put her hands in he head and groaned loudly, why the fuck would she do that?

Two Months Later

Kenya whined in irritation as she crawled out of bed for the past couple of weeks she’s been so groggy which is unlike her she is usually a morning person she’s gotta stop trying to hang with these 20 somethings. Kenya blindly walked into her bathroom. When she opened her medicine cabinet she saw her unopened box of tampons, shit, unopened? She quickly grabbed the box and it was indeed still packaged, she bought these a while ago and she hasn’t used them yet? Maybe she’s late again like last month—wait a minute, now that she thinks back she didn’t have a period last month, she doesn’t think so…she can’t remember.

“Oh fuck,” Kenya mumbled to herself. She quickly got dressed stumbling over her feet along the way and practically sped to the nearest CVS she probably broke a few traffic laws along the way, no, she broke a few traffic laws. She grabbed every pregnancy test she could get her hands on and raced back home.

Kenya gaped at the four positive pregnancy tests, she immediately grabbed her phone to call Daveed, he was the last person she slept with. Her thumb was inches from pressing the send button when she hesitated. Daveed wasn’t the last person she slept with.

AN: Yikes what a little tangled web Kenya weaved, I live for the drama I was on my Tyler Perry stuff. I hope you guys enjoyed reading!!

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[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

Me reading a really good book: god this makes me wanna write

Me reading a really bad book: ugh this makes me wanna write

Me having coffee: i wanna write

Me going on a drive: i wanna write

Me doing the dishes: i wanna write

Me waking up: i wanna write

Me writing: