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blainesebastian · 10 months ago

Text

something real

words: 13,045 ship: austin butler x female reader rating: SFW except for one explicit scene summary: i took inspo from a request about fake!dating for a wedding and from another film with a similar premise. what else do you do when your ex is getting married? hire a fake date notes: feel free to visit my austin masterlist warnings: none, but check the rating. tag list: @austinbutlermischief, @killerqueenfan, @stylespresleyhearted,

“You’re losing it.”

A short laugh escapes your lips because god, maybe you are. This all started out easily enough—you needed a date for your ex’s wedding. Right, the fact that you were even invited kind of drives you crazy. It’s not like you didn’t have a good relationship with Todd, you did? But it also doesn’t change the fact how things ended—he ‘meant’ to break things off with you but started seeing someone at the same time. Claire. The girl he’s marrying. But you’re not about to go through life with grudges and anger when you can just let things go.

Which is why you’ve entertained this wedding invitation in the first place?

But to go alone? That’s a fate worse than death.

Which, ironically, is exactly what your friend, Jill, is telling you you’re going to be with this idea you’ve come up with.

“It’s all perfectly safe.” You mutter, sliding onto a bar stool and turning to look at her. You’re wearing a light blue dress, pair of booties, and jean jacket. Just casual enough but also hinting you’ve got a figure to show off if you really wanted to.

She scoffs, “Yeah, that’s what everyone says before they end up on 60 Minutes.”

You can’t help but smile, tugging the file out of your course before setting it on the bar top. “Do you want me to explain it again?”

Jill puts her hands on her hips—as if that will somehow make her comfortable with all of this, but she’s not protesting either. So you open up the file and—

“So my neighbor’s used this service before to go to her high school reunion, you know, so she didn’t end up there alone. She went onto their online platform, filled out a survey and bam, she was matched with someone to go.”

Jill narrows her eyes, “For twenty thousand dollars.”

“Well it’s not charity,” You throw back, “I’ve done the research, there’s a ton of reviews—all positive. It’s not like it’s about sex or anything, it’s just…companionship for one event.”

Jill looks at the file, crinkling her nose, “There’s so many other ways you could have done this—Rick, the guy in 6B? He’s always thought you were cute.”

You laugh a little, “If I go out with Rick, there is a good chance I’ll end up missing some limbs—dude is creepy, Jill.”

Her friend rolls her eyes but it’s fond, opening up the file and pointing to a blank spot where this guy’s photo should be, “Okay, but you don’t even get to know what he looks like?”

“I think it was my Wi-Fi,” You state honestly, “Some of the images weren’t loading. But that’s why you’re here,” You grin, “Safety measures. So—” You gently push on one of her hips, “Go find a table, order a drink while I wait for Austin.”

“That’s the gigolo’s name?”

“Wedding date,” You correct, shooing her away until she heads to a table.

Taking a breath, you look at the reflective surface of the bar mirror in front of you, mentally praying that this somehow not a huge mistake and order a drink.

Chewing on the drunken cherry in your Manhattan, you glance down the bar as you see someone handsome talking to a small group of women. You wonder if that’s Austin, looking for you—he’s about ten minutes late. Your stomach clenches anxiously, knowing that maybe Jill was right and this is utterly ridiculous. But…you got invited to the wedding late (either it was a last-minute thought or it got lost in the mail) but there was no way you could organically find someone to ask.

Sure, you could have brought Jill or some other friend but…deep down? You know this is about making Todd feel utterly stupid for cheating on you, for leaving you for someone else. You don’t want him back, of course, but that feeling of satisfaction? That look on his face when he sees you with someone else? You want it.

You can’t not go and you can’t find someone random in your life already to go with…so when your neighbor mentioned this quick fix? How could you not look into it? You’ve got a ton of money saved from over the years, not to mention a small investment your grandfather put in your name. What’s the harm in looking into this, right?

“Y/N?”

Turning on the bar stool, you nearly swallow your own tongue as you’re met face to face with who you assume is Austin. And joke’s on you because he’s ten times more beautiful than the other guy at the bar you saw talking to those women. He’s tall, lean, in a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt underneath a black leather jacket. Easily handsome, like…James Dean or Elvis Presley. Doesn’t have to try very hard.

And suddenly something hysterical crawls up your throat as he takes a seat next to you, introduces himself as Austin, and apologizes for being late because of traffic because—

“I’m sorry—” You interrupt, shaking your head, “This uh, this isn’t going to work.”

His eyebrows draw together in confusion, his mouth opening and closing, “Excuse me?”

“You’re,” You laugh lightly, cheeks heating up. There’s this sickly sensation gripping your stomach, telling you to run, “No one is going to believe that we’re dating.”

And maybe that’s something oddly pathetic you shouldn’t have uttered outloud because what’s even worse, Austin seems to grip what you’re saying and his features soften. You do not want pity or sympathy, you’re just…stating a fact.

Austin takes in a soft breath and looks towards the bartender, ordering himself a beer, confusing you a little because you expected him to just…take off. There’s no money involved at this point, it’s a clean break. This meeting is just to discuss details.

“I think you’re underestimating yourself,” He states gently, eyes sweeping over your form. And god, he’s good, isn’t he? You suppose this is his job, making women feel good. Confident. Even though it’s all a lie.

Letting out a breath as his drink is set down on the bar, you figure there’s no harm in…talking with him, right? He came all this way; you can at least wait until he finishes his beer to turn him down. You’ll just go to this damn wedding alone—it’s really not that big of a deal, right?

Austin takes off his leather jacket, hanging it up on a hook underneath the bar and he smells amazing—some sort of cologne that’s fresh and almost citrusy. You run a hand through your hair and order another Manhattan.

“So your request said a wedding?”

“My ex,” You clarify, “And I don’t want him back, or anything, I just want him to feel like an idiot.”

Austin smiles a little, humming— “Well, that shouldn’t be too hard. I’m assumin’ he already is one.”

A small laugh stutters forward in your chest because yes, he is. Your shoulders start to relax just a little because maybe Austin gets it. By not going or going alone you…you don’t want Todd to think that he’s somehow gotten one over you, that you’re lonely or broken ever since you’ve separated.

“Have you…done weddings before?”

He shifts a little on the barstool so that he’s facing you a little easier, “I’ve done weddings the most,” He admits, “Two high school reunions, one funeral.”

You raise your eyebrows, setting your drink down on the bar. “A funeral?”

Austin shrugs lightly, “Some women just want a hand to hold on their hardest day, a shoulder to cry on. Someone to talk to.” He licks his lips, taking a sip of his beer, “I’m not one to judge.”

You straighten your shoulders and…you suppose you’re really not in a position to do that either, given you’re here to hire Austin so you feel less alone and pathetic at a wedding. You take a long look at him for a moment, —curious. He doesn’t want to be doing anything else?

“Can I ask��why are you doing this?” Your fingers trace shapes into the condensation on your glass. “This whole fake-date program?”

Austin clears his throat, “You can ask me whatever you want,” He starts and that within itself seems like a dangerous proposition. “I work at this café near here but uh, it doesn’t exactly bring a lot of money in. I want to be an actor, like…a serious one, the money I get from these dates I’m savin’ up to go to L.A.”

And he essentially gets to pretend to be someone he’s not. Like an endless list of auditions.

There are other things you want to ask, other questions stuck in your throat about doing weddings. Why weddings? The whole concept seems like a bad idea—a high school reunion, a holiday party, even a funeral makes more sense, doesn’t it?

Those aren’t emotionally connected events, there’s no…opportunities to fall into something deeper than what the contract of attachment allows. But weddings? It’s about love and finding your person and…going to one with someone else feels like such a slippery slope.

Or maybe it doesn’t because Austin is a professional.

“So if I…if we do this, what does it entail, exactly?” You take another sip of your drink, as if you need the liquid courage for his response.

A small smile graces his handsome face again, “Don’t overthink it. It’s whatever you want, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

You feel like there’s this heat uncoiling in your belly even though he’s not suggesting anything. Somehow, it’s in the ocean blue of his eyes—a depth there. You clear your throat, “You mean uh—if I require a dance partner? Because I love to dance at weddings…usually badly.”

Austin laughs warmly but shakes his head. “I meant if I was goin’ as your date or a boyfriend.”

And oh, of course, you hadn’t even thought about it but of course Austin would want a more specific role to sink his teeth into and your mind spins about what you want to do. It’s just one night, one silly wedding, there’s no long con here. It’s not like Todd will even care who you show up with, right? You’re the one who wants to feel less lonely—

And yet—

“You can think about it, if you need to—”

“Boyfriend.” You say, cutting him off. Heat returns to your cheeks…mise well go big or go home, right? If you’re going to do this? This has got to be a bad idea, right?

“Okay,” Austin smiles, “Good.”

So it’s settled that he’ll meet you at your place beforehand, you’ll iron out details of your relationship in case anyone asks and then you’ll go to the wedding together.

Austin stands and he tosses some cash on the bar counter (enough to cover your drink as well) and he hovers for a moment, tugging on his leather jacket. “My number’s in the file, in case you need it.”

Then there’s a moment where Austin watches you, fixing the lapels of his jacket. His one hand then rests on the bar, taking a step closer to you, and the way that you’re seated, your legs open just slightly to accommodate his body in your space.

“Don’t hit me, alright?” He smiles a little, leaning down, and honestly you’re the one that feels like you’re getting sucker punched in the stomach. Air right out of your lungs. “It was nice meeting you.”

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry as your eyes flutter to his lips, “Yeah, you too.”

There’s more than enough time for you to pull away, but you don’t, so he kisses you.

It’s nothing obscene, but slow and gentle. Warm. Just enough to make your heart pound against your ribcage, electricity singing in your veins. You suppose it’s something you should get used to if Austin is going to pass as your boyfriend.

You raise your eyebrows a little as he pulls away, hot under the collar of your jean jacket.

“Figure we’d just get that out of the way so you could concentrate.” He teases and god, your mind is spinning. You kinda hate that he’s made you feel like this so easily, like somehow it’s second nature.

“What, that doesn’t cost extra?” You manage to throw out there, finding your voice.

Austin grins, another soft laugh rumbling in his chest. “I’ll see you soon.”

You let out a slow breath, running a hand over your hair as you watch him walk out of the bar before downing the rest of your drink.

“So that’s your date, huh?” Jill asks as she comes up behind you—honestly her voice kinda sounds like cotton in your ears. “Todd is gonna swallow his own tongue.”

And you can’t help but grin.

You meet one more time before the wedding, just…something to solidify that you do, in fact, know what you’re doing. But also to get a bit more comfortable around Austin and the fact that he’s going to be your boyfriend. You let out a slow breath, aggravated by how crazy that sounds. Maybe Jill’s right, maybe this is a bad idea (despite how handsome and charming Austin is).

He’s picked you up to go somewhere but won’t tell you where. And when the engine turns off, you undo your seatbelt and look out the windshield, “A custard house?”

“Was hopin’ you could go for somethin’ sweet,” Austin smiles a little, “They make these waffle custard sandwiches that’ll change your life.”

You hum lightly and start to get out of the car, a little confused because…well, you’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this. “We’re here for ice cream sandwiches?”

Austin scrunches his nose in mock offense at her flippant description, “No, we’re here for waffle custard. You need to work on listenin’, come on.” He gets out of the car too and locks the doors.

You know you’re about to paying Austin a decent amount of money to be your stand-in date, your fake boyfriend, dragging him to this wedding for god knows what reasons make sense in your head but…you suppose you didn’t count on him being like this. A tiny bit thoughtful, sweet, funny even.

Or maybe he’s already a decent actor.

You follow him to the counter, your eyes trailing over at least thirty different custard flavors—not only that, but there’s twice as many toppings. How are you supposed to choose?

“You know what you want already?” You ask as Austin rolls up the sleeves of his jean jacket a little.

“I always know what I want.” He leans on the counter, turning towards the woman at the register to order French vanilla—but stops when you make a noise. He looks at you over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Somethin’ you wanna share?”

You purse your lips and rocks back onto your heels, shaking your head, “No I just…vanilla, really? You don’t seem like the type.” She teases.

Austin smirks, straightening his back. “Oh, huh.” He motions to the large display menu. “Put your money where your mouth is, baby. What should I order?”

You let the pet name slide (and it does, like heated molasses right down in your veins), which is probably a dangerous slippery slope, but you’re too busy trying to take in a custard selection at the moment to care. You chew on your lower lip, slipping through the flavors written in chalk on the board and decides to go with your favorite pairing—

“He’ll have chocolate and strawberry custard in that waffle sandwich thing with…” You hum, “Caramel sauce and chocolate sprinkles.” You smile, clearly happy with your selection before ordering the same for yourself…except you also get chocolate sauce and whipped cream.

Because why the hell not?

“You’re gonna have that all over you before the night is over.” Austin motions to the dripping mess in your hands, carefully shelled between fresh waffles wrapped up in foil.

You slide yourself onto the hood of Austin’s car, almost sliding back down but managing to lean against the windshield before losing your custard sandwich.

“Challenge accepted.”

Austin smiles a little, sitting down next to you, looking far too handsome sprawled out on his car.

You realize that everything between you both is so dangerous, wrapped in gentle dynamite, the softest breath or touch capable of explosion. But it’s also tantalizing in a way that excites you—Austin is different, gentle but rough with the walls he keeps up.

Everything about this is a lie –circles in your head, over and over, trying to remind you not to take anything too seriously. And yet? You bury it deep with a bite of your custard sandwich. You moan softly and lick chocolate off your lips because Jesus, this is incredible.

Austin smirks, licking custard between the waffle before he takes a bite of his own. “Told you it was worth the stop.”

“I’m not going to admit you somehow know all just because you have decent taste in custard.” You smile and takes another bite of your waffle sandwich, leaning back to watch cars drive by.

“Give it time.” Austin glances over and you can feel his gaze, always like a magnet tracing the curves of your body. You want to tell him that you enjoy when he looks at you like that, to be felt and seen all at the same time, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

You wonder if he looks at every woman who’s ever paid him like that.

You’re not sure you want to know.

You turn and meet his gaze, holding it for a moment before a small smile graces your lips. “Do you really work at a café?”

He nods, leaning further up against the windshield. “It’s called Mug Half Full; been there about three years.” He licks his lips, pulling a napkin from his pants pocket and wiping his chin where he feels caramel sticking. “What do you do? You didn’t mention it in your email.”

You swallow down a bought of self-loathing at the question and decide to take another bite of your sandwich; sweet hiding sour. “I uh, I’m kinda in-between jobs at the moment.” You know Austin has to be able to see through that terrible excuse of an answer. “I’m currently getting an online degree in education.”

Austin finishes his custard waffle, which is admirable because yours is two seconds away from becoming soup in your hands. You lick at the sides as he crumples up a napkin and puts his trash in a can nearby so it’s not in either of your way.

“What do you want to do?”

The question shouldn’t offend you as much as it does, the want and need to defend yourself raising your hackles a bit. You bite down on reacting too sorely; he’s just asking a question—and you realize you haven’t given him a reason not to ask something like that. Your bland response is what prompts the statement.

You suppose you’re just…too used to people asking that, especially since society makes you feel like you somehow got a late start in figuring things out. In reality, it’s never too early or too late to be whoever you want. You’re just…getting to that.

You clear your throat, setting your custard sandwich down on your lap a moment, the foil protecting your clothes. “I have no idea,” You admit with a soft laugh, “My relationship with my ex kinda took all my energy—supporting whatever he needed, you know? Now I’m just starting to figure myself out.” And you’re proud of that progress, even though it feels like pushing a boulder up a hill sometimes. “I might teach maybe, one day.”

He holds your gaze for a moment, slight amusement dancing in the corners of his eyes. He smiles gently, looking down at your hands before he picks up your sandwich and licks whipped cream off the corner. Ridiculously obscene and unnecessary but you let him do it anyways.

You have apparently become accustomed to sharing things—you’ve noticed that he continues the ruse of soft touches and intimate gestures when no one’s watching. You think it’s to help solidify the fact that you’re supposed to be dating, supposed to be into one another. Which isn’t very hard when he does things like that with his tongue.

Austin tosses your trash like he did with his own before turning to look at you, handing you a napkin to wipe your hands off. “I could tell you wanted more. And you know, there’s nothin’ wrong with that.”

Then why does it feel so guilty for you to admit— “Sometimes it feels selfish, to want things for myself.” You swallow, letting it sink into the air. You’ve never told anyone that before, not even your best friend or your parents.

“Sounds like someone really selfish made you feel that way.” He says gently and it’s like…wool has been taken off your eyes. Something you maybe knew but needed to hear.

It’s not what you expect him to say, not in the slightest, but it warms you from the inside out either way. You nod because yes, you’ve never thought about it like that but yes, that’s it exactly. Realizing that taking care of yourself is one of the best things you can do—knowing yourself and that you deserve to want, that it’s normal, even.

Austin hums softly, moving to slip off the car. You swing your legs around and when he offers you his hand, you take it to slide off as well.

How easy it would be to lean up and kiss him, how he’d probably taste like hints of chocolate and strawberry. You wait for him to let you go, for his hand to stop holding yours. But he doesn’t.

You lick your own lips, your eyes looking to his lower one, how it pouts out gently when he looks at you—and you decide to stop waiting for things you want. If you’re going to pay for his company, you might as well enjoy it.

You press your lips into his own, capturing something sweet, lips moving together like you both were always made to kiss. Austin’s one hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your hair back around your ear before eventually pulling back. You’re breathing a little shakily, your noses brushing, Austin taking his time to trace your cheekbone with his lips before he opens up the car door for you.

“You’re not charging me extra for the gentleman treatment, are you?” Or for the kisses I keep stealing?

Austin smiles, a soft laugh leaving his throat as he waits for you to put your seatbelt on. “Not yet.” And closes the door with a wink.

You think about canceling six times between when you wake up on the day of the wedding to the moment you slide your dress over your head. You’ve told yourself that this was and continues to be a terrible idea and if you hadn’t paid him half up front through a cash app, you’d have the nerve to tell him never mind. Kisses and all, you really feel like you’re starting to lose your damn mind.

Though you know even if you told Austin to forget the whole thing, you still have to go to this wedding. (You could probably skip it no big deal, but the last thing you want is Todd to assume you’re bothered either). Canceling now would definitely mean going alone and you can’t stomach it, not when you feel like all of your insides are already in knots.

You smooth your hands down the front of your dress as you hear the doorbell, taking the steps downstairs carefully in your gold heels. You’ve settled for a navy-blue number that shows just enough cleavage and is ruffled at your middle, hugging curves and kissing your skin beautifully. You feel confident and comfortable, which is important for a long night.

You sigh, glancing at your front door for a moment before turning the knob and opening up to see Austin. He’s standing in a suit, beautifully polished, hair perfectly coifed on his head. A navy button-down underneath a gray suit jacket, tie to match with a red spidery design that reminds you of tree branches in the winter.

A crinkle appears between Austin’s eyebrows because, “Why are you shakin’ your head?” He asks as he steps over the threshold and you close the door.

“I just naturally assumed you were going to show up in black. Black in your profile picture that finally loaded, black at the bar… I thought that was the only shade you owned.”

He runs a hand lightly over his chest. “Grays in the same shade family.” He’s joking but you’re not laughing and finally he just throws his hands up a little, “What’s the big deal?”

“Because we match.”

Austin looks down at himself and pauses, doesn’t get it, gives you a look that makes you feel a little crazy. “That a bad thing?”

“It’s—” No, it’s not exactly a terrible idea but it somehow digs under your skin because you want today to be perfect and Austin is supposed to be your boyfriend and you can’t be that couple that goes all matchy-matchy to events, right?

What are the odds that he shows up in something that is the exact same color as your damn dress?

“It’s too perfect, it’s not believable.” You say and he raises his eyebrows because that does not make one lick of sense. He takes a step towards you and you mirror one back, shaking your head.

Austin lets out a slow breath because you’re nitpicking and it annoys him, a flare of impatience decorating his handsome face. “Well I don’t exactly got another suit in my back pocket and we’re already late.”

You narrows your eyes, “Just…follow me. I’ll change.”

You’re up the stairs and in your bedroom before you realize what you’ve said, Austin slipping in behind you and looking around the room, drinking you in with permission you’ve accidently given him. You turn suddenly and slip off your heels, pressing one hand to his chest to stop him.

“Don’t move.”

He smiles a little and nods his head, sticking his hands in his pockets as he watches you slide into your walk-in closet to change. You sigh softly and run a hand over your forehead before you take a moment to unzip your dress and glance at your options.

“A lot of beige.”

You roll your eyes and pull out a black dress, quickly pulling it on and kicking your navy blue one to the side before stepping out of your closet. You don’t bother to zip it up until you make sure it’s the right one.

Austin has dutifully not moved from the spot on the carpet where you’ve left him and he scrunches his nose at your dress, “You goin’ to a wake?”

“What’s wrong with beige?” You glance around your bedroom; at the little accents you’ve added that have color to them. Some shades of coffee colored brown and touches of teal here and there. It’s minimalist but tasteful.

“It’s just not what I pictured.”

“You pictured my bedroom?” You ask, but the corners of your mouth pull slightly as you put your hands on your hips.

Austin tilts his head at you, eyes traveling over your body in an unashamed way. “Maybe.” He pauses for a moment to let that sink into your pores. “You don’t seem like a beige. Also, no to that dress. I can maybe get you not wantin’ to match completely but that doesn’t line up with what I got on at all.”

You nod and turn to go back into your closet, pulling the dress off and standing far too long in your underwear trying to decide on a color range. You could go gold…but that feels too flashy, gray is out of the question and so is another navy dress so…

You finger red fabric for a moment that matches the scarlet on Austin’s tie and pull it off the hanger.

“I’m not actually that fond of beige,” You admit over your shoulder as you pull the dress up—it’s a fit and flare that kind of reminds you of the sixties. Something that hugs your waist with a high-neck tanked top and flares out like a wide flame at the bottom. It hits just below your knees and your gold heels will still go nicely with it.

“But the house kinda came this way and…I never took the time to fix it.” You walk out of the closet, pulling your hair free from underneath. “Todd didn’t like bold colors anyways.”

Austin’s eyes descend on you like a cold rush of water, a wave crashing down onto your shores. He stares for what feels like a long time, his hands coming out of his pockets like he wants to touch but can’t—too far away. You smile softly as his gaze sticks, he’s captivated by the dress, and you notice he has to shake his head as you approach to be able to speak to you.

“So I’m guessin’ he’s not gonna like this.” He reaches to touch your waist, fingers pressing warmly into the fabric.

You chew on the inside of your cheek a moment, looking up at him. “Do you like it?”

He smirks gently, pulling on your elbow to turn you around. He doesn’t reply but you feel suddenly naked under his gaze as your bare back is exposed to him. He takes his time finding the zipper and slowly draws it up into place, fixing the little hook at the top. His hands rest against your shoulders and guide down, squeezing your arms before letting you go.

“Get your shoes. We’re already late.”

You let out a long sigh that somehow turns into a pout, making him smile, “We could stay here, you could give more wisecracks about my bedroom decorum.”

Austin smirks and grabs your purse from where it’s seated on the bed as you slip your heels back on. “As amazing as that sounds, that’s not what you’re payin’ me for.”

And the words sound sour, swallowing them down, nodding your head as you leave the bedroom with him.

The wedding itself isn’t actually terrible—it’s beautiful in a way that would make any woman envious. Lots of flowers and gold designs and as you watch the entire ceremony take place, you have moments where you wonder why you’re here. Was it really that important for you to show up? And not only that, but pay a date to be here? You keep going back and forth, like a serious game of tug-of-war.

Why did it matter if you showed up alone? Or with Jill?

Austin helps you with your coat, his hand on your lower back as you walk out of the church and towards the reception hall which is being held in this beautiful botanical garden that has rooms you can rent for things like this.

People begin to pile into the building, pausing at the coat check before heading into the reception all, and it’s right there that you suddenly feel like bolting. Truth is? Todd was your boyfriend for years before your breakup (a breakup that might have never happened if you hadn’t realized he was cheating, because clearly he hadn’t taken the initiative until it was too late). And it’s probably so stupid that you remained friends with him, that you were invited to this wedding, that you for some reason care about what he thinks—even now.

But you do.

You should have just moved on and thrown the wedding invitation in the trash but…feelings don’t always come in black and white. You constantly live in a shade of gray.

And you’re worried someone is going to see right through you tonight.

Austin squeezes your hand, getting your attention as you remain grounded by the coat check. He’s patient, waiting until your gaze meets his own. “You’re shakin’.” His other hand covers the one he’s already holding.

You nod your head and offer a smile you don’t feel. “I thought this would be easy. Having you here as a distraction, smiling at all the right times and drinking too much wine in a nice dress,” You shrug your one shoulder, “It doesn’t change how I feel.”

Despite the small amount of privacy the coat check wall provides, you can feel eyes on you two from different parts of the room; people slipping past to get a glass of champagne from the cash bar, fluttering in-between hors d'oeuvres tables and congratulating the couple. Guests who know who you are, who are whispering about you. You can hear Todd a few feet away; big laughs and too loud discussions that tell you he’s a little drunk but genuinely happy.

Or maybe this is all in your head.

“Look, I think you were gonna feel this way no matter if you came alone or with someone.” He runs his thumb over your knuckles. “But you can still do all the other things you mentioned,” Austin leans in, brushes his lips over your cheekbone as he talks, “Drink too much wine in a beautiful dress and smilin’ definitely doesn’t hurt.”

He pulls back and you lick your lips, wanting nothing more than to lean up and kiss him again. To feel his arms wrap around you and pull you close, back outside, to his car, away from this place where you feel like you have to be someone you’re not.

Austin grasps your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, waiting until your eyes meets his own again. He leans forward to brush your lips together, gently, more to distract you than anything else because it’s not a kiss.

“Women hire me because they want to feel wanted and if that’s what you need to hear, then fine, I do want you, Y/N.” You let out a breath that sounds too shaky for your own good, your knees slightly buckling. All the other gazes you once felt on you fade away, until it’s only you and Austin in an empty botanical garden.

“But hearin’ that doesn’t matter until you want things for yourself. You want someone to believe in you? You want to feel confident? Wanted?” His hand falls to your waist, “Good enough?”

You swallow thickly, his words reaching something that’s still raw inside of you, that still hurts to think about. You want to pull away, nearly do, but instead surrender to his weight against you. It’s not his fault that he does a better job of reading you than you do looking in a mirror.

“Then it has to come from you first.”

You shake your head as he pulls away, his hand very simply returning to yours as you both move towards the cash bar. “I know you think you know me from a few meetings and a detailed email request. But you don’t.” Your words at least sound stronger than you feel.

Austin looks at you over his shoulder and smiles but says nothing in return.

Maybe the problem is, he does know you, even from the simplest interactions. Maybe you’re just not used to being seen. Todd never saw you, even when you gave him so many chances to try. You suppose at that point you need to want to try.

You’re seated at a table that has mostly co-workers and friends and you attempt not to cringe when someone asks you how you know the bride and groom. Austin swoops in and responds that they’re friends, his arm stretched out over the back of your chair. You’re grateful because the words we dated are sitting in your throat like a lump, difficult to swallow over.

The night spins forward, you’re able to avoid the bride and groom for the duration of it, just enjoying food and a little bit too much wine and hanging out with Austin. There are long conversations where you get to know one another, fill one another in about things that are real, beyond the layers of this fake-date situation.

It’s nice, seeing him in that light, getting to know him as if you’d bumped into him at a bar and enjoyed his company.

You almost wish that was the case, instead.

His arm squeezes around your waist as you both dance on the dance floor, his jacket on the back of his chair, dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. You’re definitely a little tipsy, the room is rose-colored, but all in all? It feels like a crisis has been avoided, you’re actually having a good time.

“Can I get you another glass of wine?” Austin asks, brushing his lips over your forehead, “Maybe some cookies from the dessert table?”

You grin, “You know me so well.” And it’s not a line, somehow, you’ve been craving cookies for the past half hour.

Austin smiles, nods, squeezes your waist and leaves you to do just that. You somehow ache with missing the heat of his body once he’s gone—and that’s how you know you’re slightly in over your head. You have to keep reminding yourself that none of this is real—the way Austin talks to you or looks at you, the way his hands travel over your body, the slight brush of his lips against your own.

It's all a lie.

A lie that you paid for.

Running a hand over your forehead, you turn and nearly bump into someone, blinking as you look up and—

“Todd.”

Your ex smiles, “Hey—I’m so glad you came, I wasn’t sure if you would.”

Neither was I, “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.” Chewing on your lower lip, you’re struck with being unsure of what to say, scanning the crowd for Austin before clearing your throat, “Uhm, everything has been beautiful.”

Todd smiles, nodding, taking a look around for his bride. “Thank you. Are you uh, here with Jill?”

You open and close your mouth like a goldfish until you feel that familiar arm slide around you. “No this is Austin,” You take the glass of wine and have a hearty sip and it instantly makes your head spin.

Todd clears his throat and even though he’s smiling, it’s clear he’s giving Austin a once-over. He did not expect you to be here with someone. “I didn’t know you were bringing a friend that wasn’t Jill.” He kinda laughs, like maybe it’s a joke that you don’t have many other close friends other than her.

But Austin is quick to smile, “Actually, I’m her boyfriend.”

And there it is, the look on Todd’s face that you were after this whole time. It’s quick, gone almost as soon as it appears, but lingers in his eyes. Regret, maybe even jealousy. Even though his wife appears by his side and introductions are exchanged.

Luckily the conversation doesn’t last very long, the bride and groom are swept towards other people, more dancing. Which is good because you’re pretty sure you noticed that the bride couldn’t keep her eyes off of Austin.

What a couple her and Todd make.

Downing the rest of the wine, you set it on the table, letting out a slow breath. Austin keeps his hands firm on your hips and you can’t quite meet his eyes. You’re not quite sure how…this wasn’t what you expected, nor wanted.

Just feels like a big mistake.

“Wanna get out of here?” He asks quietly, seeming to read your mind.

You nod and he keeps his arm around you until you make it outside and reach his car.

That last glass of wine did you zero favors and by the time you make it to your front door, you’re dropping your keys instead of sliding them into the lock. Austin smiles a little, picking them up and unlocking everything, pushing the door open. You’ve got a firm hand on his shirt because you’re swaying slightly, almost a little afraid of what might happen if you let go.

What if all of this is one weird dream?

“Where are we going?” You ask as he comes inside, closing the door behind him.

“Water n’bed.” Austin replies as he guides you into the living room.

You scrunch your nose and look to the ceiling, definitely knocking yourself off balance as the room spins. Austin lets out a short grunt as he catches you, steadying you against his chest.

“In that order? That’s so boring.”

He chuckles slightly, guiding you both until he has you in front of the couch, encouraging you to sit. “You got somethin’ else you’d rather do?”

You can’t help but grin at the question, poking at his chest. “I think you know what I’d rather like to do.” It’s like hot lava pouring from your lips, you can’t seem to stop it even though you know you’ll have burns later.

Austin hums under his breath but doesn’t respond, concentrates instead on keeping you on the couch once you’re seated.

“Stay there,” He says when you try to get up, holding onto your shoulders and pressing you gently down. “You good or you gonna slip off?” There’s an amused smile pulling handsomely at his lips as he tilts his head down to look at you, slipping his thumb and forefinger along your chin.

“Good, I’m so good.” You nod, determined to give him responses that make sense. You just wish the room would stop spinning.

Only when he feels like you mean it does he pull away from you. You closes your eyes as your fingers grip the cushion, trying to hold yourself in place. None of this really helps and instead you just end up feeling nauseas, forcing your eyes to open so you can see Austin.

He’s taken his jacket off, tie gone and shirt unbuttoned a bit, and seeing his chest and forearms makes heat unwantedly pool between your legs and you lick your lips, trying to focus on what he has in his hands.

“He…he honestly didn’t think I’d be there with anyone.”

A crinkle appears between Austin’s eyebrows and he pauses, “What?”

You swallow, not sure if your trail of thought makes sense. “Todd. Jerk.” You give as an explanation.

Something passes over Austin’s face but it’s gone as soon as it appears and he crouches in front of you, his one hand slipping over your knee a moment, “Do you actually care what he thinks?”

You hold his gaze for a long moment before shaking your head. He hums softly, squeezing, his thumb between your thighs and it’s really too distracting.

“Then fuck him; neither of those two seemed like they should be giving relationship advice.”

You giggle something ridiculous and cover your face with your hand a moment, glad you were able to make sense of all that even though you probably didn’t need to bring it up.

“You got anythin’ like a long t-shirt?” He changes the subject as he makes a motion to go upstairs. “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to get pants on you.”

You huff out a sound and rub a hand over your face, most likely smearing makeup in the worst way. “That’s alright, I like bein’ pantless.” You reach over and is happy you don’t tumble, using one hand to hold onto his shoulder to get his attention. “Upstairs, first drawer on the right.”

He’s back and forth quickly; makes you wonder how long you’ve actually been sitting there.

Him undressing you is a blur; you note that he does his best to dip his gaze when he can to give you a little privacy. Just enough that you can figure out that your head doesn’t go into one of the arm holes and assists when you starts whining that you can’t get it right. You throw your wedding dress aside and kicks off your heels, letting out a soft huff when Austin disappears into the kitchen.

He comes back with a warm washcloth that smells like lilac soap and he waits until your gaze focuses on him before he asks whether you can do this yourself.

You nod a little absently, taking the washcloth from him and wiping your makeup off before handing it back to him. You pull as many bobbypins as you can find from your hair and toss them onto the coffee table, pulling your strands back up into a bun before collapsing face first into the couch.

You barely feel the couch dip as you smush your face into a pillow, blankets being draped over your shoulders.

When you wake up, you don’t automatically remember where you are.

You lift your head and groan softly, pinching your eyes with your thumb and forefinger trying to get the pounding to stop. There’s a soft blue light casting shadows on the walls of the living room and oh, that’s right, you’re home. Austin brought you home last night.

You swallow and nearly sit up too fast, leaning up on your elbows because oh, oh fuck, now you remember. A wave of nausea crashes down on you for moving and you flutter your eyes closed briefly and hope that helps. When you feels confident enough to fix your gaze on something other than the inside of your eyelids, you turn to look at Austin who’s sitting up in one of the lounge chairs nearby against a few pillows, watching TV.

He didn’t leave. He stayed with you the entire night.

The sound from the TV isn’t loud enough to be heard but you can tell he does this often, eyes on the screen, just absorbing the images that flicker to life. His head dips to look over at you when you move; he looks tired. You really hope he didn’t sit up to just…keep an eye on you, making sure you slept alright.

You clear your throat, the sound scratchy and dry regardless of your trying, “Am I dead?”

Austin smirks a little and stands to come and sit by your legs, handing you a glass of water that’s on the coffee table. “Here. You passed out before I could get you to drink any.”

You sigh softly and close your eyes, moving to sit up further and is glad to see the room isn’t spinning anymore. “Lovely.” You drink deeply after a few tentative sips to make sure you can keep it down.

“You stayed.”

“I did.” Austin’s quiet for a few moments, playing with the corners of one of the blankets. Clearly he’s not going to elaborate. “You got a headache?”

You hum an affirmative response but it’s nothing water and Advil can’t cure. You lean your head back against the headboard, closing your eyes again for a few moments to avoid the blue light spilling into the room from the TV. You give yourself some time to sip your water before you open them again, setting the glass down on the table. There’s cookies there too, from last night. Austin kept them.

You sense embarrassment licking at your nerve endings, feeling a little ridiculous for your behavior. You should really know better than to let yourself go like that, especially since it doesn’t take too many glasses of wine in a row for it to happen.

“Sober?” He asks and there’s a tilt to his voice that you don’t like, far too amused.

You groan and turn your head to look at him, trying to muster up a glare that doesn’t stick. “Unfortunately.” You rake your fingers through your hair, trying to not even think about what you might look like.

You’re just glad you didn’t vomit.

A deep breath settles in and out of your lungs before you turn your head to look at Austin, the light of the TV casting beautiful shadows on his face. Your eyes skitter over the scruff beginning on his jawline and your fingers itch to follow. You clear your throat, getting his attention, and he turns his head to look at you.

“I’m sorry for getting plastered.” You smile a little because he does; that same amusement back on his face, though it doesn’t bother you this time around. “I’m shocked that you do weddings.”

You allow yourself to laugh a little, shaking your head like it’ll somehow clear the fuzzy memories of him bringing you back to your home, tripping over yourself. You regret the way you’ve carried yourself, but a tiny part of you is glad you decided to let yourself go, to enjoy the open bar and let your emotions run a little rampant for once.

You’re so used to keeping everything inside, to holding it all in. For once you didn’t.

Austin’s chewing on words he’s not saying, you can see the hesitance in his expression, wanting to say something but unsure if he should. You wait, don’t press, and eventually,

“Admittedly, I haven’t done a wedding in a while.” He shakes his head, “Because they tend to be messy in a way that I never expect.”

You wince, rubbing the back of your neck because…clearly you hadn’t planned on making a fool out of yourself but Austin quickly continues to explain,

“I don’t mean you.” He turns a bit to lean against the couch, his shoulder pressed along the cushions. Austin licks his lips, his eyes tracing your jawline and lips, slipping down your neck and collarbone enough to make you shiver.

“In your request, you said somethin’ like, ‘I don’t want my ex to feel like he’s taken something from me. Something that’s mine and will always be mine’.”

You search his eyes for a moment and when his finally meet yours, something warm and aching starts in your chest, blooming outward like a flower only meant to grow at night. You swallow thickly, “You remember that?” Because you kinda…bared you soul in that request for a date service. You hadn’t meant to come across so desperate but…you were also just being honest.

“I have a very good memory,” He attempts to wave this off, and you want to tell him not to—that what he’s saying matters. Austin’s seeing you, over walls you didn’t realize you had up after all this time.

“You said kind of implied that you wanted Todd to regret cheating on you, but I think you really meant that you wanted him to see that he didn’t break you.” He licks his lips and trails his pinky finger along your jawline as he curls loose hair behind your ear. “I’ve met a lot of women in similar situations, and not all of them have handled it like you.”

A laugh slips out of your throat, something you can’t stop. You’re trying to break the tension gathering in the room, something heavy and thick like warm cotton settling over both of you. Handled it? You haven’t exactly done that well, have you? If last night is any indication.

“What, they didn’t hire a male escort and get piss drunk?”

He smiles gently, shaking his head. “They let their exes break them because they couldn’t figure out who they were without them.”

The warmth in your chest threatens to burst and you wish for a moment that you could see yourself the way Austin does, so clearly, like everything is laid out before him, all he has to do is read.

“But not you.” It barely leaves his mouth before you close the distance between them.

The heat erupts in a single kiss, both of Austin’s hands tangling themselves in your hair, pulling it loose from your haphazard bun. He kisses you like you’ve always wanted to be kissed, even though you hadn’t realized it was something that was missing until now.

He inches you forward, forcing you to move until you’re straddling his waist, blankets getting caught and tangled in-between. Anything that’s been building up suddenly releases into you both, like a wave crashing, heated breaths against skin and not being able to get close enough. Austin tugs off your long t-shirt and a shiver travels down your skin as you reach up and automatically unclasp your bra.

You sit there for a moment, almost in the wake of realizing what you’ve done, and you watch Austin’s gaze. His eyes drink you in, hands still on your waist, trailing up your sides, thumb slipping underneath one of your breasts to press against your ribcage. The touch is intimate enough to cause something sharp in your throat, thick swallowing for it to disappear. You lean forward, presses your foreheads together and you kiss again.

You’re fumbling to get blankets down, to move everything out of your way and Austin flips your positions, easing you down onto your back along the cushions. He rifles for something in his suit jacket that’s nearby while you slip your hips up to slide your underwear down and off and away. He’s got too many layers on and you itch to immediately remove his shirt when he’s overtop of you again.

Toned skin greets you and you can’t help but touch, sink your fingers in, drag your nails. The noises that leave Austin’s throat are enough to single handedly build the heat beginning in your lower belly, something you don’t think you ever want to stop hearing. He moves only long enough to take his pants off, tossing them to the side, and he holds your gaze—

He waits.

You swallow and know this is such a bad idea, that nothing good can come from this. But wasn’t it Austin who urged you to figure out what you want? You want to feel confident? Wanted? Good enough?

Then it has to come from you first.

There’s a half-nod in Austin’s direction before he’s slipping a hand down between you, to put a condom on but also—

You moan, rolling your hips as you feel his fingers slide against you, inside of you. He teases, rolls flesh between his thumb and forefinger, lips falling to your neck to leave kisses that eventually find your mouth again.

He takes his time even though you wish he wouldn’t, building you up and letting you down easy before pressing inside. You gasp and your back arches, hips rolling forward, Austin leaning down to capture your mouth again, to absorb your sounds. You wrap your legs around him, which makes moving a little difficult, but you don’t want him to move too far away, want to constantly feel him—keep you both connected.

Austin nips at your lower lip with his own, not taking you long to build up what you’ve started. Pleasure circles in your veins, pulling you towards an end that you doesn’t want to reach yet. He doesn’t stop, keeps moving his hips forward at a quickening pace and you dig your nails into his back.

You barely have time to warn him before you’re cumming, though because your bodies are molded together, you think he already knows—probably knew before you did. He grunts as he loses himself in you, his face falling to your neck, gentle panting and lazy kissing.

You tilt your head back so your throat is exposed, your hands slipping down his back and settling on his waist, his skin a little slick to the touch. He lays there for a long few moments and you take one another in, his chest pressing into your own as you both breathe.

He pulls back too soon for your liking, but you don’t have the energy to tell him to stop. Austin cleans himself up, slipping onto the couch again, this time behind you, and pulls you close. You turn on your side, blankets coming up over your shoulder as you puzzle-piece both of you together, your face hiding in his neck, already falling asleep.

Austin says nothing, which is fine with you, he doesn’t need to say anything. His lips find your shoulder, a few kisses here and there, hands intertwining in your hair.

You finally figure out what you want—

and you want this. You want him.

You wake up before Austin does, pulling yourself from the couch and disappearing into the bathroom near the kitchen. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you kinda shake your head before drawing up Jill’s text messages on your phone.

Y/N: I think I messed up.

You wash your face and feel a little more human, sitting down on the closed toilet seat as she pings you back.

Jill: oh no, what happened? Jill: please tell me Austin didn’t turn out to be a serial killer

You laugh, your hand covering your mouth. Jesus. A small, hysterical part of you wonders if that’d be easier to deal with.

Y/N: the wedding went fine, he brought me back home, stayed the night Y/N: may or may not have had sex with him on my couch this morning??

Jill instantly tries to call you and you press the red button—you can’t talk to her when he’s still here.

Y/N: I can’t, he’s still here

Jill: !!!!!! Jill: girl omg— Jill: how was it? 😉

Running a hand over your face, you wonder if you should have ever said anything. Then again, there’s this small smile tugging the corners of your mouth. In general, you know that there’s nothing wrong with what you’ve done—both of you are consenting adults. But then there’s this whole other layer of…paying him to be your date. It’s not like you paid him for sex or anything but…

You kinda can’t help but wonder how many jobs he takes that end up like this.

Y/N: it was perfect but that’s not the point

Jill: so what is the point?

You sigh softly, tapping on your cash app and just…wondering. So many insecurities and questions and wonderings wrapping around you like a blanket, except it’s far too tight, suffocating almost. Taking in a breath, you set your phone down on the counter, looking up when there’s a knock on the bathroom door.

“Y/N?” Austin asks, “You alright?”

Reaching over to grasp the knob, you open the door with a soft smile, “Yeah.”

Austin looks ridiculously adorable slept on. His hair is slightly askew, skin looking warm, a soft, tired look in his eyes. God, you can’t believe he’s been here for so long in these wedding clothes, back in his slacks and a white undershirt.

“I uh,” He clears his throat, “M’gonna head home. Shower, change. But…”

You lick your lips, your stomach flip-flopping with eagerness.

“I was thinkin’ I could come back later; we could talk?”

God, talking sounds like such a great idea. Not to mention you could shower too, put yourself together, feel more like someone capable of having a serious conversation. So you nod with a soft smile—that sounds perfect.

And then—

You can pinpoint the exact moment that Austin glances to the sink and sees the cash app open because his expression changes, like a shadow passing over but instead of dissipating—it stays, darkening the color of his eyes. A breath catches in your throat as you straighten your shoulders, words on your lips and stuck on your tongue. Nothing comes out.

His gaze flickers up from the phone to your eyes and what you see there is like a cold bucket of ice water, anger but…deeper, it’s—

“Not what it looks like.” You finally say, breaking the tension into pieces with a hammer.

Austin hums, nodding his head and licking his lips. He’s trying very hard to speak without sounding annoyed, “What’s it like then?” He asks, the words daggered. “Cause it looks like you were about to pay me for services rendered.”

You shake your head and stand from the toilet on wobbly knees. Austin takes a step back from you, almost like a caged animal, getting ready to bolt. And then you realize, right, he’s not angry, he’s hurt.

“No—”

“Don’t lie to me,” He grounds out, the words chewed on between his teeth.

A shuddered noise leaves your lips because you can tell you’re losing it, this conversation slipping like sand between your fingers. He’s not going to be willing to listen to you if you confirm he’s right, that you had thought about it—if you admit you weren’t sure what you were doing or what sleeping together meant.

You distantly know that this isn’t going to end well, no matter what you say. Austin tore his walls down in front of you, exposed himself, and now he looks like a fool for doing it. Even if it’s on accident, you’ve hurt him, and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to backpedal without looking guilty.

“I thought about it,” You admit after a moment. “I wasn’t…” The last thing you wanted to do was make him feel cheap; you know that this thing started as a transaction but also that something changed last night.

“Nah, it’s good. You were payin’ me to do a job, right?” Austin turns to walk back to the living room, gather up his things. And it’s like…you have no idea what you can possibly say, how you can stop him.

Your legs carry you forward, “Austin, don’t.” You sigh and puts a hand on your lips, suddenly feeling nauseas as he moves too quick for you to stop him.

“Business is business. You can stop feelin’ so guilty,” He straightens his shoulders before grabbing his jacket, slipping it on. Metaphorically it feels like a shield, another layer he’s building back up between them both, shutting you out.

He can’t possibly leave like this, right?

You’re practically stumbling over your own feet as he makes it to the front door, “Please don’t walk away.”

His hand pauses on the doorknob, just for a moment, like he might actually be considering your words. But then he yanks the door open and slams it shut once he’s outside.

You don’t go after him.

Time goes on.

You expect that Austin might reach out to you—to apologize, to start over, or maybe even request the unfulfilled payment that he was supposed to receive after the wedding date. But nothing, it’s radio silent…and you think that’s worse.

You want to reach out to him on your own, but you’re not even sure where to begin. How to apologize for thoughts that are incomplete in your head. How to express emotions that are sitting at the bottom of your ribcage.

You’re just hoping for a chance to apologize and explain yourself, even though you’re not entirely sure you deserve it. Is this really it? Going back to business as usual and pretend they never met one another?

You sigh as you hear a few knocks on your door and hate how it feels like hope, quickly moving from your kitchen to tug it open and see Jill on the other side. You give her a small smile, letting her inside,

“I got your twenty texts, you alright?”

You run a hand over your forehead and shake your head, moving towards the kitchen for Jill to follow. You offer her a cup of coffee, sitting back at the counter with your own. Wrapping your hands around the ceramic, you glance up at your friend,

“I screwed up.”

Jill sighs softly, grabbing a cup for the coffee because clearly, she’s going to need it. “Tell me what happened; your texts were all hysteria and no detail.”

You map out the whole thing from start to finish, the chapel, the reception, the night of, the morning after—your voice drops on intimate details, like somehow you have to keep them exactly that. Intimate.

“Damn, Y/N.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, “I know…it was an accident.” You swallow. “The money part, anyways.”

She adds a few spoonfuls of sugar to her mug, stirring. “Does tall, blonde and brooding know that?”

You let your hand fall from your face, eyes focusing out the window above the sink at the city sounds and sights. Suddenly a dark blue gaze rekindles in your memory, the hurt there, wounded and refusing to let you past his boundaries again.

“I tried to tell him; he wouldn’t listen.”

Jill hums under her breath a moment and shuffles, “Maybe give him some time? Try him tomorrow.”

Easier said than done, “I don’t even know where he lives. He’s not going to pick up the phone if I try to call him; texts are useless.”

Your friend’s quiet for a few moments, considering—and then a sound leaves her lips and you picture a lightbulb going off on her facial expression. “But you know where he works.”

You stand outside the café that Austin works at for what feels like a long time, staring at the sign and pacing back and forth to your car parked down the street. You really hope no one is watching you because you probably looks crazy; you feel crazy. You can’t just approach this man where he works, can you? You don’t even know if he’s working today.

But it’s…worth a try, right? Like one last shot before you just drop it.

You’re not sure that if the situations were reversed, he’d show up at your front door, so. Or maybe you’re just hoping he would.

So after spending ten minutes contemplating what to do, you finally force yourself to walk up the café door and make your way inside. It’s a hole in the wall but filled to the brim with people at tiny circular tables, waiting in line to place their order with a beautiful blonde cashier and satisfied customers adding sugar and creamer to their coffees at a station to your left.

The heady scent of fresh coffee and baked goods slam into you like a truck, leaving you almost breathless. This place blends in when it should stick out—she wonders if you didn’t know Austin if you’d come in to order an iced coffee just walking by on the street.

Your eyes graze behind the counter until you finally spot him further down, filling baked goods trays in a window that were once empty. A ton of questions hit you at once; did he make those baked goods that are at his fingertips? How does he separate the time between the café and the stand-in job? What are you going to say to him?

Before you can fully approach him, Austin glances up—and spots you.

He’s not happy to see you but he doesn’t look as pissed off as the last time you saw him, so, you consider that progress. You swallow as you walk towards the counter and your hand settles on the top of the glass, the lights above the pastries warming your palm.

“Hi.” That’s it? That’s all you can say? This conversation is going to be just as painful as the last one.

Austin doesn’t have a chance to open his mouth because another worker, a blonde girl, rushes to the counter because she must be on register, “Hi,” She smiles, bright, “We have orange scones on sale today. What can I get you?”

You smile gently at her, glancing at Austin and wondering if he’s going to step in or just…continue not saying anything to you. You suppose you don’t blame him.

“I’ll uhm, take a hazelnut latte and one of those scones,” You nod, reaching for your wallet in your purse, “Thank you.”

“I got the rest of this, Chloe,” Austin steps in as you stick your card into the reader. “Thanks.” He watches her go before turning his attention back to you, customers passing by and receiving orders that he’s already packed at the end of the counter. He hands over your receipt.

“You stalkin’ me now?” He asks but he’s not amused, drumming his fingers on top of the counter.

You let out a slow breath and he moves to fill your order, working the espresso machine with practiced ease, “You won’t text me back.”

“Maybe that’s cause I didn’t wanna talk to you,” He says pointedly before motioning towards your right, “You skipped the line.”

“I didn’t want to order anything, I just wanted to talk.”

He smirks but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes and he grabs an orange scone, wrapping it in a napkin. “Look at you, really learned how to be honest about what you want.”

“You taught me how.” You insist, trying to catch his gaze. When you finally do, you hold it there, trying to will him to listen to you—because you’re not grasping at straws, meeting him, spending time with him…being with him really taught you about parts of yourself that were missing.

Or maybe not missing, exactly, but lying dormant.

“I just want five minutes of your time, please, then I’ll leave you won’t hear from me again.”

Austin lets out a long patient sigh with a shake of his head, something between aggravation mixed with a touch of being impressed—you’re persistent, at least. He’s going to hear you out and suddenly all the words mix in a blender and sink to the bottom of your ribs; you’re almost unsure of how to put this but all you can do is try.

“You’ve been right since we first met; I didn’t know how to want things for myself even though I expected so much out of other people.”

You chew on your lower lip a moment, eyes tracing over the handsome lines of his face—now was not the time to get distracted.

“This whole thing caught me off guard, I wasn’t prepared to want you…and not just as my stand-in date, but you.”

He doesn’t hold your gaze and maybe that’s okay, he busies himself with getting other people orders, keeping the line moving but you can tell he’s still listening to you. He’s still intent on hearing you through…even though you’re almost certain it’s not going to make a difference.

You can tell by his expression, by those walls remaining firm; they’re not budging for you.

Not again.

“The money thing was a mistake. You were right, I did open up my app and think about it because I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what this thing was or if I was…imaging how I felt. So I fucked up but…so did you for not sticking around and talking to me.”

Austin’s shoulders straighten; he doesn’t appreciate you calling him out. A rod appears up his spine, his posture almost towering despite the glass case between them.

“I just…that’s it,” You swallow, your thumb running over the scone in your one hand and picking up your finished latte with another. “That’s all I wanted to say. Sorry for disrupting your work.”

You turn quickly, can’t take the look in his eyes anymore, the bustle of other people around you. You’ve said what you needed to—you should feel more complete than before, right? Because at least he knows your side of things.

It’s his turn.

You push the door open, the welcome bell dinging after you as you leave.

He doesn’t come after you.

You try to shake your head as Jill orders another shot, but can’t quite stop her because the woman has a mind of her own when it comes to having a good time.

“No,” You crinkle your nose.

Jill laughs, “Oh come on—one more. You’re not calling it early already, are you? We can get fries after this.”

You sigh, a bit dramatically, but how can you turn down fries? “Fine.” You shake your head, running a hand over your face as you sit at the counter of your frequent bar, “I’ll be back though.”

You slide off the barstool, motioning she should save your seat as you put your purse on it. She grins, cups your cheeks with her hands and plants a kiss on your forehead. You shoo her off, moving through the crowd to the restroom. Once you’ve used the bathroom and spend a little time with a cold and wet paper towel to the back of your neck, you come back out and nearly run someone over—

And blink because—

“Austin.”

It’s been a few months since you’ve seen him but fuck, he looks just as amazing as he did when you tried to explain yourself in the café. Wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, boots and a white button down, he’s got a leather jacket on as well, just a bit more scruff to his face.

“I was wonderin’ if you were gonna be here.” But it’s…contemplative, thoughtful, like he might have actually planned on trying to find you in the bar where you met.

You feel like the world might be spinning off its axis. “Here I am.”

He smiles a little, glancing over his shoulder and fuck, you wonder if he’s here with someone and—you’re pleasantly surprised that it doesn’t cause some adverse reaction. No punch in your gut that you completely screwed everything up. Time, it seems, does heal some wounds.

Maybe not heal, scar at the very least.

“I saw you post somethin’ on your instastory and I was…well I was hopin’…” He kinda trails off and two thoughts slam into your body like a freight train. One, he sounds…nervous? Which you feel like is very unlike him, given what you’ve been through together. And second? It actually sounds like he knew you were here and he meant to find you on purpose.

“Can we talk?” He asks, “Maybe outside?”

“Yes,” And god, you hope you don’t say that too fast. “Fresh air sounds good.”

As you begin to walk outside with him, you text Jill letting her know where you’re going (and with who). She sends you exactly three text messages in response that you don’t dare look at.

You take in a deep breath in once you get outside, the cool air settling over you like a bucket of cold water. You almost wish you grabbed your jacket from the bar but…dragging Austin over there towards Jill would have been such a bad idea.

It’s fine—the air is refreshing, a bit sobering and this conversation probably won’t last long either way. Taking in a breath, you turn to look at him, a soft smile on your face as you wrap your arms around yourself.

“So…”

Austin clears his throat, “You uh—?” He motions to his jacket and you’re not quite strong enough to deny his offer, so you gently nod your head. Austin slips off his leather jacket and hands it to you and you put it on.

A soft noise of approval leaves your lips as your arms go through the sleeves, a little bit long, feeling perfect though when you zip it up. The lingering scent of his cologne and skin is enough to almost knock you on your knees.

“Thank you.” You whisper, curling your hair around your ear.

You know that Austin is gathering his thoughts, but waiting almost somehow feels worse. You’re just…not sure what to do with yourself other than stare at him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“I shouldn’t have left you like that,” He finally says, “At your place?” It’s like the tension start to unwind from your shoulder at that, you almost have to physically swallow over your words so you can let him speak. “Just…felt like what we did, it was real—and—”

“It was real,” You assure him, can’t allow him to think otherwise, “I know this is going to sound cliché but…opening that cash app had everything to do with me, not you. I wasn’t second-guessing what happened.”

Austin gently waves you off, “It’s not your fault, I—I’m so used to things bein’ a business transaction that I just jumped to conclusions.”

You give him a small smile and it feels good? to be on the same page after all this time but…it’s not like, “It’s okay,” You curl your hair around your ear, “I’m not sure where something like this could go. I wouldn’t ask you to quit a job that’s clearly lucrative.”

Austin nods softly, “Well you don’t have to, because I already have.”

You’re not sure why what he says doesn’t register right away, you’re kinda just staring at him, wrapped up in his leather jacket, people passing you both on the sidewalk as you stand outside this bar.

Then you blink, “What?”

He smirks, running a hand through his hair as he nods, “Yeah, I uh—just didn’t want to do it anymore.”

You feel like your brain might be short circuiting, “But about acting? What about L.A.?”

A soft laugh rumbles in his throat, “I can still do L.A. Bein’ an actor isn’t goin’ anywhere.”

And you know that he still has a café job, that he can find other jobs to satisfy what he wants in terms of collecting money but…somehow you’re worried he’s traded one thing in for another. Even though Austin doesn’t look like he has any regrets as he takes a step towards you. His hands gently rest on your arms, sliding down, like he’s waiting for you to push him away.

When you don’t—

“You're not the only one goin' after what they want.”

You can’t stop a small laugh from slipping from your lips and before you can talk yourself out of it, you press yourself up on your toes and kiss him. His arms wrap around you automatically, drawing you closer, his one hand cupping the back of your neck.

It feels like you’re kissing for a long time, or maybe it’s just felt too long since you’ve kissed. Either way, pulling away makes you feel a bit breathless and Austin smiles, pressing your foreheads together for a moment.

It feels like starting over, or maybe even better, a new chapter.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

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oncasette · 2 years ago

Note

just a lil request for Phil Wenneck… car sex? 🫶🏽

𝗜’𝗗 𝗚𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗨𝗣 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗢𝗨𝗖𝗛 𝗬𝗢𝗨

phil wenneck x wife!reader

summary: 1.4k.

The two of you are barely twenty minutes into your drive–that is, apparently, only an hour and a half according to your husband–when Phil starts getting handsy. You’re back in one of those little sundresses he adores so much, seat pushed back as far as it can go, feet crossed and perched up on the dashboard.

or the one where phil fucks his wife on a deserted back road.

warnings: smut, piv, car sex, (almost) reckless driving, unprotected sex

masterlist | taglist

Phil wouldn’t admit it to anyone–not even to you, most days–but he was a sucker for the domestic scene. It was such a guilty pleasure, seeing you in those pretty little sundresses while you made lunch in the kitchen. Bare feet against the linoleum of your mudroom as you fold the laundry. Watching you brush your teeth on your side of the jack and jill sinks in your bathroom in one of his old t-shirts from college.

It leaves his brain a little hazy, a little numb. Clouds his judgment and his rational thought until he’s sliding up behind you while you make breakfast, arms linked around your middle as he presses barely there kisses to the seam of your shoulder.

“You got any plans today?” he asks, moving the neckline of the shirt you’d stolen with the tip of his nose and humming against the bare skin he finds there.

“No,” you say. “Unless you count lounging around here.”

“Good,” he says. “Because we’re going on a trip.”

The palms of his hands are splayed wide against your hips, beneath the hemline of the shirt and skimming the thin edge of the panties you were wearing.

“Phil-” He hushes you, quickly, kissing the spot below your ear. “I’ve already got you a bag packed.”

“We can’t just go,” you scoff, smiling.

“Why not? C’mon, baby, I’ve already got you a bag packed and everything,” he says. His voice is low and gravely, chest rumbling against your back. “Let me spend some time with my beautiful wife, hm?”

“Y-yeah.” The words come out as a stutter, slipping down your tongue as Phil nips at your pulse point and molds you into putty in his palms. “Yeah, let’s go somewhere.”

“There’s my good girl,” he says and you huff out of your nose at the loss of contact from his lips.

He pulls away to give you time to finish cooking the food you were no longer interested in and stalks back up the stairs to grab your bags.

He’d left you alone to get ready. He’d loaded up the car, tossing the single bag stuffed full of both of your clothes into the trunk and the trader joe’s bag of snacks into the back seat, leaving you alone in the bedroom to dress as you pleased.

Needless to say, Phil was more than shocked when his fingers pushed up the pale yellow fabric of your dress and found nothing but more of your soft, bare skin when he’d expected the delicate cotton of your underwear again.

“Jesus Christ, baby,” he scoffs as he takes his gaze off the road to turn toward you with wide eyes.

“Eyes on the road, handsome,” you say, tapping his cheek delicately with the hand closest to him.

“I can’t believe you’re not wearing panties right now.”

You hum in response, bringing your hand down to fiddle with his fingers from where they’re still resting on your leg. It’s like your touch brings him back to the surface, the drag of his hand resuming as he moves closer to the slick between your thighs.

“Holy fuck,” Phil groans as you guide his hand, coating his fingers in your arousal. “You’re so wet for me, baby.”

The tip of his middle finger has just barely pressed itself into your pussy when he pulls his hand away entirely, leaving you with a whine caught at the base of your throat. You watch him white knuckle the steering wheel and flick on the turn signal.

“Phil?”

“Yeah, baby?” He checks the mirrors before abruptly changing lanes.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Getting off the interstate so I can find a back road… or something,” he says. His jaw clenches so tight you think you can hear his teeth grinding.

“Phil,” you sigh as you adjust in your seat, leaning toward him over the middle console to slide a hand across the denim of his pants. Your eyes roll back in your head as you think about how delicious it would feel against your clit, thighs clenching as your hand finds the bulge in his jeans.

“Fucking christ. Give me five minutes…” he sighs. “Two minutes.”

You palm his cock, heat emanating through the fabric. He’s finally reached an exit, the three minutes that had passed in the midst of the exchange feeling more like twenty as Phil holds your wrist to keep your movements at bay. The two of you are lucky enough to have gotten off at a fairly deserted spot. A decently dense swath of trees surround the parts of the street not taken up by fast food places and gas stations and it only takes you a couple minutes to find a side street to pull off into.

It feels like the car is thrown into park before the wheels stop rolling. Your seatbelt is unbuckled for you, hands landing on your hips to pull you over the center console until your knees are framing his legs and he’s looking up at you through hazy eyes. His hands are still on your hips, grip strong as he tugs you down fully onto his lap.

“You’re a fucking tease, you know that?” he asks. He grinds you down, rolling your hips against his until there’s a wet spot in the denim. You were right, too. The way the fabric catches your clit with each drag has drool pooling beneath your tongue.

“Want your cock, Phil,” you whimper. You lean forward, forehead pressed against his until you’re basically swapping air.

“You think you deserve it?” he asks before spitting out “no panties” under his breath.

“Want it so bad, please,” you whine. Your cunt is practically weeping over him, clenching around nothing. You reach between the two of you to paw at his belt. The buckle is bulky between your fingers and it takes you multiple tries to undo it. He lets you handle it, only pitching in to lift his hips to get his boxers and pants down just enough to slip his cock out.

He pulses in your grasp, dick jumping as you swipe your thumb over the slit to spread the thick beads of his pre-cum over the head. He’s so thick your thumb just barely meets your index finger when fully wrapped around.

You inhale sharply through your nose as you line him up.

“You always feel so-” Phil groans. “Perfect wrapped around me.”

You slide down his length slowly, allowing yourself to soak up the feeling of him stretching you out–despite the fact that you’d fucked the night before–until he’s fully seated inside of you. Until you’re rolling your hips into the coarse patch of pubic hair that meets your clit.

He leans forward to connect your lips, drowning out the sound of your moans as he licks into your mouth. One of his hands comes up to cradle the back of your head as you lift your hips to start bouncing on him. He didn’t want a repeat of the last time you’d fucked in his car. He’d had to kiss you silly to keep you from feeling the dull throb in the back of your head.

His other hand guides your movements, allowing you to pull up off him slowly only to slam you down on him so hard he nearly has you seeing stars.

“God,” he exhales. You can already feel him twitching inside you.

“I’m so close.”

“Me, too, baby. Hm, haven’t cum this fast since I was a fucking teenager,” he says. It only takes the feel of you clamping down around him once to send his hips shooting up into you, cum spurting out of him in thick ropes that have your walls fluttering around him.

You cum around him with a constant chant of oh my god.

The two of you sit in the silence of your orgasms for the next couple minutes, giving Phil enough time to regain coherent thought as the mixture of both of you cum seeps out around his dick.

“You know, I was gonna fuck you when we got there, but…” Phil’s lament is cut off with a half-hearted slap to the chest.

#phil wenneck #phil wenneck x reader #bradley cooper #bradley cooper x reader #the hangover #the hangover imagine #phil wenneck imagine

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crashandswirl · 2 months ago

Text

...Can we tell apart my eight muses with the same FC?

#[rain & her clones aren't muses here but idc]#{i'm basically holding my future emmy right now} about terri #{it's like my mother always used to say...} about tiff #{tú quieres creer que estoy loca} about salgado #{umbrella had to have me} about j.d.#{you already know my name huh?} about bruce #{hey get a load of this} about alf #{yeah i get that a lot} about luther #{if you want an adrenaline rush...} about letty #{this is serious} about vance #{wanna see a magic trick?} about joey #{so i guess i'll tell you my story} about m-13 #{i got tired of waiting so i started a little fight} about inéz #{chucky did it} about nica #{sometimes i want the first bite y'know?} about cass #{i was trained in battle by a great warrior} about katarin #{if you don't try to save one life you'll never save any} about angie #{guess you could say i'm one of those people who's just better off alone} about ana #{there's nothing to it} about jill

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slxsherr · 2 years ago

Text

Tonight I Feel Like More

read part I here and part III here

pairing: charlie walker x bimbo!fem!reader

summary: you attend your first ever stab-a-thon, and finally make it through all of the movies, so charlie gives you a reward under the guise of keeping you warm.

wc: 2014

warnings: fem!reader, cursing/swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of oral sex (m! receiving), public sex, unprotected sex (p in v), mentions of crying, creampie

a/n: reader is described as being taller than charlie while wearing heels i'm sorry if you're short just pretend you're wearing ridiculously high heels 😭

Since your first movie night with Charlie, it’s been his mission to finish all of the Stab movies with you. Which wouldn’t be so hard if you could get past Stab 5, but the whole time travel plot confuses you, which means you get bored, and Charlie has come to realize that your boredom manifests in a rather, promiscuous way.

The first time you only lasted twenty minutes before you were pulling down his pants and busying yourself with his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks until you were swallowing his load. After that, the last thing on either of your minds’ was the movie.

He tries again and again, but somehow, someway, you get lost. He thinks he should feel lucky, having a girlfriend as frisky as you, and for the most part he does. But he’s worried, with Stab-A-Thon coming up he knows you’d want to go and support him at his last film festival.

What worries him is that at some point throughout the night you’re gonna get bored, and then he’ll have to find a secluded area of of wherever they decide to throw the party to fuck you silly. A problem he never thought he’d have, but he keeps it in mind while discussing venue options with Robbie.

Eventually they settle on an abandoned farm, far enough to not be bothered by adults, but not too far to the point where the drive is a hassle. They scope out the farmhouse, making sure it’s not too rundown for a gathering of drunk teens. It’s their last year of high school, last year running Cinema Club, last time throwing Stab-A-Thon, and Charlie and Robbie want to go all out.

On the day of, a few more involved club members help Charlie and Robbie set up for Stab-A-Thon, handling decorations and seating while Charlie and Robbie focus on the audio and visual. Before people start arriving, Charlie adds some yellow police tape to the stairs leading up to the hayloft, spewing bullshit about not wanting a drunk idiot to fall when someone asks, not wanting to say the real reason.

As soon as the sun falls over the horizon cars start to pull up, teenagers filing in with drinks, talking over the loud music as they wait for the movies to start. You arrive with Kirby and her friends, visibly annoyed by Jill and Trevor fighting behind you, most likely having had to listen to them argue the whole ride over.

You find Charlie before he spots you, quickly making your way to him through throngs of people, desperate to get away from relationship drama, not wanting it to rub off on you and Charlie. The closer you get to him, the easier it is for him to notice you. You’re dolled up more than usual, pretty makeup and hair he’s gonna feel guilty about ruining later, a short dress barely reaching past your ass, and matching heels that have you standing taller than him.

Most guys would probably be upset by that, but he can’t find it in himself to care when you slot yourself at his side, leaning in to give him a kiss. Your lipgloss is sweet, strawberry or cherry if he had to guess, a thin layer sticking to his own lips when you pull away. Your smile is even sweeter, eyes shining when they meet his, and he’s reminded of the phrase ‘the lights are on but no one’s home’, a perfect description of what goes on in your head.

He can tell you planned your outfit for fashion over function, which is the case for most of your outfits. If you’re not whining in his ear to sneak off he’s sure you’ll be complaining about being cold. But he lets those thoughts fade, focusing instead on your warmth at his side, offering you a sip of his drink.

“What time do the movies start?” You ask, face scrunched up at the bitter taste of whatever alcohol was poured into the jungle juice.

“Shouldn’t be long now,” Charlie answers, pulling his hand out of his pocket to wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him.

“Actually, we should probably get up there and do our kickoff,” Robbie says, seeing the seats mostly filled in.

“Be right back,” Charlie whispers to you, following Robbie to the projector screen.

Their introduction is short and sweet, poking fun at the franchise’s clichés, while also promoting underage drinking. The crowd cheers, ready for the movies to start, quoting the iconic opening scene as Charlie and Robbie make their way to the back of the crowd to the projectors. You’re sitting on some bales of hay set up for seating, thin blankets keeping the itchy straw from irritating your skin, confusion etched in your features when you see Charlie walk out of the room instead of joining you.

Before you can follow him, Robbie takes a seat next to you, going into a rant about the movie that you only half listen to, convinced Charlie has given you the same rant during one of your private movie nights. You don’t have a chance to interrupt him and ask about Charlie though, jerking away when you feel an arm around your shoulder.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Charlie laughs at your reaction, sitting down next to you. “Got you a drink,” he says, offering you a red cup.

“Thank you,” you say, beaming at him, leaning in for another kiss.

“Uh-uh, watch the movie,” he says, refocusing your attention to the screen.

You roll your eyes, but do as he says, watching the movie silently. The two of you sip on your drinks, moving closer together as more people join you on the bales of hay. By the time the second movie starts, you’re forced into Charlie’s lap after getting up for refills and losing your spot. Not that you mind, sat sideways on his lap and tucked into his chest, you’re surprisingly able to focus on the movies for once.

He entertains you, imitating the killer’s voice and repeating the dialogue for only you to hear, his breath tickling your ear as he whispers the lines. Your giggles are muffled by his chest, his playfulness and the steady beat of his heart comforting you through the jumpscares and violence that you’re still getting used to.

The two of you allow yourself to relax into one another, comfortably watching each movie as the crowd slowly dwindles. You’ve traded your jungle juice for soda, caffeine and sugar slowly sobering any tipsiness as dawn approaches, eyes blinking slowly as you both fight off sleep. You’re so close, the closest you’ve ever been to finishing all seven Stab movies, and he can’t help but bounce his leg nervously, your whole body shaking from the force of his movement.

“Stop that,” you mumble, and he does, but it’s not long before his leg is shaking again. “I thought you’ve seen all of these before, shouldn’t I be the nervous one?” You tease him when he still doesn’t stop.

“Shh, pay attention,” he scolds you, because it’s the final act of the last movie, and you’ve come so far.

You don’t put up a fight, attention easily grabbed as the kill scenes get messier and the main cast dies off one by one. Charlie’s buzzing with excitement during the last few minutes of the movie, watching for your reaction. Your reaction is dampened by your exhaustion, but even the slightest tell of shock has his lips stretching into a smile, holding you closer as the credits begin to roll.

“Wow,” is all you say, stretching out in his arms.

“Well, how do you feel?” He asks you, leaning over you as you lay back.

“Scared, tired, a little cold,” you answer, his hair tickling your skin as his face nears yours.

“Hm, well let’s go to bed then,” he says, sitting up and pulling you up with him.

You follow him to a set of taped off stairs, a thin blanket dragging on the straw covered floor behind him. He holds your hand all the way up the stairs, not wanting you to trip in your heels, spreading the blanket out over the loose stack of hay. The two of you fall onto your makeshift bed for the night, or early morning, laying on your sides as he pulls your back to his chest.

“How about now?” He asks, arms holding you close to him.

“Less scared, less tired, more cold,” you answer, wishing you had also grabbed a blanket.

“Let me warm you up then,” Charlie says, an impish smile on his face as one of his hands moves between your thighs, tickling your skin as his touch trails up.

“Really? Right now?” You ask, and he can’t tell if you’re excited or not, words slurring from exhaustion.

“Only if you want me to,” he answers, teasing your inner thighs, pushing the hem of your dress up.

“Of course I want you to,” you say, his advances reassured as you open your legs for him.

Since your first night together, both of you have learned a lot about each other’s sexual preferences. Although Charlie doesn’t have much experience, he found that it doesn’t take much to turn you on. You’re rather needy, and despite being the one guiding him most of the time, he’s the one doing all the work. Not that he minds.

When he dips his fingers past the waistband of your panties, he’s not surprised to find that you’re already wet, teasing your clit with soft circles as his other hand gropes your tits over your dress. Your hips buck in pleasure, thighs closing around his hand as your leg falls from the force of gravity, ass barely grinding back against him as you seek friction.

“You did so good tonight,” he says, undoing his jeans to pull them down. “Finally watching all of the movies like I asked,” he says, thick head of his cock stretching your slick walls as he pushes into you, your panties merely pulled to the side.

“Anything for you, baby,” you say, pushing back against him, needing to feel him deeper.

His hands hold your hips in place as he thrusts into you, building speed and tempo as he stifles his groans by marking your neck. You bite your fist, painfully aware of the people asleep just beneath the hayloft, struggling to keep your voice down. It’s unfair, Charlie thinks, how good you feel wrapped around him, milking him as you get closer to orgasm.

“What’s that?” He asks, hearing you mumbling something through your fist.

“Harder, please,” you moan, hiding your face in the blanket.

He holds you against him tighter, hips bruising your ass as he fucks you harder. It’s almost like you’re running away from him, grasping at the straw beside you, failing to silence your moans. He has to move one of his hands over your mouth, hearing your voice begin to echo, his other hand holding your hips in place.

Where once the cold nipped at your skin, you’re now sweltering, Charlie’s body heat warming you up from the inside out. With the way he’s pounding into you now, there’s not much you can think about aside from the way the tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each thrust, how it makes heat flare in your belly, and that you’re so fucking close. You don’t realize you’re crying, your vision having gone blurry a while ago, but now you’re seeing stars, hurtling over the edge as he chases his own pleasure.

You’re limp, twitching in his hold, drool and lipgloss smeared against the palm of his hand. It doesn’t take long for him to finish after you, grinding his release into you as he fills you with his hot cum. You whimper from the overstimulation, breathing heavily as both of you ride out the high.

“Goodnight, baby,” Charlie whispers, arms relaxing around you as you both begin drifting off to sleep, still buried deep within you.

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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

Note

please write a blurb about finding out that Lessi takes street dancing lessons, going with her to one and then her just being so clumsy!!! It’s so funny

this is longer than anticipated and went in a slightly different direction. starts off a little angsty but the end is super fluffy, still made me giggle

fancy footwork II a.russo

you sighed and tried your very best not to let your mind slowly descent into wildly overthinking the situation as you tapped your phone screen and saw it was now nearing seven, and there was still no sign of alessia.

your girlfriend had finished training at half past four and was supposed to come right home, but given it was hours later and she wasn't picking up her phone she'd clearly failed to inform you of plans she'd made.

well, thats what you were trying to tell yourself. it would be a whole lot easier if this was the first time this had happened, however it was not.

for the last two weeks alessia had seemed not herself, often home late without a real reason, or dipping off to do mystery errands and odd jobs at weird times, returning in different clothes and seemingly a lot more tired than when she left, shutting down any questions you had with a kiss and a swift change of topic.

at first you thought it could be anxiety and this was her way of coping, your girlfriend had previously suffered with it quite badly leading up to selection for the euros, panicking her hamstring would play up again or tweak and leave her out of the squad.

it had meant she'd trained harder, done extra drills, asked for more one on ones with the physio and the trainers.

only you knew in your gut this time that just wasn't the case.

you'd like to think the two of you had healthy communication down to a tee, rarely arguing or getting into rows that weren't the cause of playful banter.

on the rare occasions you did seriously disagree it was seldom that any sort of yelling was involved, you both going out of your way to listen to the other and do your best to try and meet them halfway at least if unable to see eye to eye.

your head snapped up as you heard the jingle of her keys in the door, sat curled up on the lounge with a book in your lap. you frowned when she didn't even call out that she was home like she normally would, only slipping off her trainers and closing the door after her.

"hi love." she greeted you with a tired smile, making no move toward you and instead heading upstairs toward your bedroom with her bag slung over her shoulder.

you sat for a second, internally debating if you followed her or not, eventually deciding you would as you marked your page in your book and placed it down on the coffee table. you jogged upstairs and found the blonde in your shared bedroom, riffling through her kit bag.

"what's a girl gotta do for a kiss hello?" you started lightly, poking at your girlfriend who turned toward you. "sorry, hi." alessia simply pecked your lips before turning back to her kit bag, separating the clean clothes from the dirty and you frowned at the lackluster show of affection.

"you alright?" you asked quietly, moving to place your hand on top of hers and giving her a look of concern as she glanced to you. "i'm fine, just exhausted." she answered shortly, pulling her hand away and bundling her dirty clothes up in her arms, heading toward the laundry.

"did training run late? i know the derbys this weekend and they can sometimes push you harder leading up to it." you followed, pushing yourself up to sit on top of the dryer as the taller girl began to put on a load of washing.

"no, training was fine." she murmured quietly and you let an awkward silence fall between the two of you, waiting to see if she'd make any efforts to further the conversation.

"did you do something afterwards then?" you pressed, not missing the way the girl tensed up at the question. "uh just got coffee with tooney, we caught up with jill at box2box." she answered, refusing to look up or meet your eye which sent further alarm bells ringing through your head that you tried to shut off.

"you should have told me babe i wasn't doing anything." you continued, nudging her with your foot and frowning as she pushed it away. "we don't have to do everything together, it's good to have separate friends and hobbies." the blonde replied somewhat bluntly, squatting down to fiddle with the settings of the washer.

"oh, yeah i guess you're right." you tried to mask the hurt in your voice at the comment which was incredibly out of character for the striker, the two of you normally going out of your way to do everything together, forever joking there wasn't something you couldn't turn into a two person job.

"i'll go start dinner then." you stated quietly, trying to hide the red flush of embarrassment that sat on your cheeks from the thought that your girlfriend might think you were clingy. trying to silence the doubts and insecurities which flew through your head at just a simple comment.

though glancing upward and seeing the obvious discomfort on your face guilt flooded your girlfriends features and she quickly straightened, moving to stand in between your legs, stopping you from getting down from where you sat atop the dryer.

"hey that was really rude of me to say baby i'm so sorry. i didn't mean it like that i promise, i love spending time with you." she cupped your face, pressing a much more sincere kiss to your lips and mumbling a soft i love you against them.

"its okay, you're not wrong. it isn't unhealthy to do some stuff separately." you forced a smile, still feeling a little uneasy at this piling on top of your previous worries about her frequented disappearances.

"i really am sorry gorgeous, i'm just tired and didn't think before i spoke. i missed you." she pulled you into a tight hug, the taller girl resting her chin on your shoulder and gently moving your arms to wrap around her. "i missed you too." you replied softly, sighing into her shoulder before the two of you broke apart.

"less, you'd tell me if anything was up with us right?" you asked hesitantly, the blondes eyebrows knitted into a frown as you did, both from the use of her common nickname which you rarely resorted to, much preferring more tender and sweet terms like baby or angel, and from the content of the actual question.

"of course i would baby. why?" alessia asked in return, worry seeping quickly into her bones as you shook your head. "nothing, it's silly. i'll go start dinner!" you forced another smile and tried to get down but the striker stopped you.

"hey, where's this coming from? talk to me." the blonde encouraged softly, grabbing your hands in hers and running her thumbs tenderly over your knuckles. "just drop it less, like i said it's silly, nothing even." you assured but it was to no avail as her blue eyes pierced into yours, waiting for you to explain.

"it really is nothing baby, you just didn't tell me you had plans with ella so i didn't know where you were after training and you didn't answer your phone and i just got a little worried." you spoke quickly in explanation, fiddling with one of your girlfriends rings as her hands still remained connected with yours.

"oh love, i thought i told you this morning i'd be back late. i'm sorry for worrying you, and i'm sorry i didn't include you in the plan in the first place." your blonde lover apologized sincerely and you nodded in acceptance toward her words.

"if it makes you feel any better jill and ella pretty much spent the whole time teasing me about how in love with you i am, apparently i talk too much about you at training!" the blonde rolled her eyes playfully before peppering all over your face with kisses, grinning as you finally laughed and sent her a proper smile, kicking her away.

"come on, i don't think i can be bothered to cook and clean honestly. get a chinese, cuddles and a movie?" your girlfriend asked hopefully and you eagerly agreed, squealing as she picked you up off the dryer, hands sitting securely under your thighs as she walked the two of you downstairs, seemingly much more herself than before.

but despite the reassurance you still couldn't shake the small voice of doubt sat firmly in the back of your mind.

it wasn't till days later, match day to be exact, did those voices get louder.

"oi oi if it isn't the future mrs russo!" you heard a familiar voice tease as you stood waiting for your girlfriend to change and come and meet you, leaning against the door of her car. "hello mrs bunney!" you teased back with a grin, the brunette gasping and smacking your shoulder as she joined you.

"he's gonna be the future mr toone actually thank you, if he's so lucky!" ella flipped her hair over her shoulder dramatically making you laugh. "when do you propose then? should we go ring shopping?" you mocked, the girl dropping her bag to the ground and playfully shoving you, the two of you catching up for awhile.

"so i heard you and less caught up with dear jill scott the other day, surprised i didn't see her here flying the man city flag high and yelling insults. how is she?" you made the mistake of asking, ellas face scrunching in confusion at your words.

"eh? when?" ella asked with a frown and now you were the one to look confused. "wednesday after training. less said she was late home cause the two of you got coffee and caught up with jill?" you questioned, your heart leaping into your throat as ella shook her head.

"nah man wednesdays date night for me and bunny." ella explained and suddenly it was as if your world came crashing down, the repeated excuses of going for a run with ella or a coffee with ella or a kick around with ella on wednesdays flowing through your head.

"hey, you alright?" ella asked softly, grabbing your arms as you locked eyes with her, nodding as you spotted alessia making her way toward the two of you. "yeah fine, maybe she just got mixed up." you forced a smile as ella nodded slowly, alessia arriving and throwing her arms over both your shoulders.

"ah my favourite girl, and you're here too babe." the blonde teased, the jab which normally would only be met with a playful roll of your eyes and a ribbing hit back toward her from you. though this time you shoved her arm off, quickly moving around to the passenger side of the car and slipping inside.

alessia frowned at your moody response and looked to ella with a raised eyebrow who shook her head, mumbling she needed to go and legging it away toward her own car. "what was that?" your girlfriend asked as soon as she closed her door, eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

"you lied." was all you responded sharply, only confusing the blonde across from you who awaited a further explanation, which didn't arrive. "when?" she questioned again, turning her body in her seat to face you more, keys laying dormant in her lap as the carpark cleared, her white mercedes now one of the only vehicles left in the lot.

"you told me you were home late from training because you got coffee with ella, you didn't." you again responded quickly and bluntly, not missing the guilt which flickered across your girlfriends face as you did.

"baby-" "don't." you warned her seriously, now turning to face the blonde properly as you readied yourself, more upset with her than you could ever remember being.

she'd never lied to you before, and you hated lies.

"you spun me some lovely story about seeing jill and being teased for how much you love me and how much you gush over me at training. all bullshit! why? where were you really?" you asked seriously, doing your best not to raise your voice despite your growing frustrations.

"my love-" "don't alessia. where were you?" the blonde winced at the use of her name, biting her tongue as not to beg you call her anything but that. "it doesn't matter, i shouldn't have lied."

"no you shouldn't have! and it does matter, it matters to me. you know i hate lying and if it doesn't matter to you then it can't be that big. so tell me, where were you?" you asked firmly, the blonde only sighing and refusing to meet your eyes, drumming her fingers nervously on the steering wheel.

"well? where were you?" you questioned again, a little louder this time and only met with silence, a pained look on your girlfriends face causing your stomach to drop.

"alessia are you cheating on me?" you eventually whispered out, the anger seeping from your body replaced with a crippling worry as you finally voiced the insecurities which had been plaguing your mind for weeks now.

"am i what? baby no, never. i promise!!" the taller girls head snapped immediately toward you and she scrambled to grab your hands which you promptly tugged away, tucking them in your own lap.

"why would you say that? why would you even think that?" alessia whispered in disbelief, the shock not having cleared from her face.

"well lately you seem to be coming and going a lot and without much explanation why, and always at weird times. you come back sweaty and in different clothes, and i know ella see's joe on a wednesday so all those times you used her as a scapegoat when it was that day, were obviously more lies." you explained quietly, looking out the window instead of at her, unable to stand the look of hurt visibly evident on the taller girls face.

"i can explain all of that, but i promise on everything i am not cheating on you. i love you so much that it hurts and i would never ever take that for granted, you're the best thing in my life." alessia rambled, reaching out again for your hand as you only shrunk away from her and the blonde deflated.

"well go on then." "what?" "you said you can explain all of that, explain then." "can we just drop it? but i promise its not cheating."

"just drop it?" your head snapped toward your girlfriend who paled at her poor choice of words which had clearly upset you further. "you don't get to lie and make me empty promises and then not explain yourself alessia." you warned, trying to open her door as the girl quickly locked them.

"let me out." "no." "explain then!" "no." "alessia you better let me out of this car or i swear to god-" "okay fine! just stop calling me alessia." "explain then...alessia."

"you have to promise you won't laugh." your girlfriend warned seriously and the anger present in your features melted at her choice of words, replaced instead with confusion.

"promise!" alessia stated firmly again, holding up her pinky as you gave her a look of disbelief. "baby! promise me." alessia warned and you rolled your eyes but linked your pinkies none the less and mumbled you promised.

"oh god." alessia sunk down into her seat, dragging her hands down her face with a troubled sigh. "i've been taking dance classes." she mumbled into her hands as she buried her face in them and you frowned, assuming you'd heard her incorrectly.

"pardon?" "i've been taking dance classes." "dance classes?"

"yes! in secret, every wednesday at five thirty. but i'm so bad at it that i've been getting some extra help from the teacher when he's free. who is a flamboyantly gay man by the way!" she was quick to add in, aware of how this could come across.

"you've been taking....dance classes." "yes." "why?" "well i read an article that said it helps athletes with their performance, helps them loosen up their bodies as well as shape and tone, and with the world cup incoming i have to be at my best." "what sort of dance helps with football?" "...street dance."

"like...hip hop? popping and locking and all that?" you bit down on your bottom lip to stop the grin which so badly wanted to take over your face as the blonde nodded.

"yeah. but don't laugh! you promised." alessia warned seriously, though biting the inside of her cheek to stop her own smile from spreading.

"so instead of just telling me about this, you kept it hidden and we had to have our first proper row and i had to think you were cheating on me to finally find out." you sighed as alessias face turned guilty once again and she slowly nodded.

"oh less." you shook your head in slight amusement, the blonde apologizing over and over as she grabbed your hands, sighing in relief when you finally let her take them.

"i guess taking street dance classes is probably more embarrassing than cheating anyway." you commented casually, shock and offence flashing across the older girls face as you eventually gave in, letting laughter wrack at your body.

"you promised you wouldn't laugh!" alessia whined with a pout, though seeing the clear humor in the situation she eventually joined in, the car filled with the symphony of your laughter, both of you clutching at your stomachs and wiping tears from your eyes.

"lessi baby you are such a dope."

you eventually filled ella in on what happened, the brunette insisting that you come clean about what happened with the coffee shop lie, alessia was unimpressed but understood she was in the wrong.

though that didn't stop her from refusing to let either one of you go to class with her, or reveal anything else about them, changing the subject anytime it came up or distracting you with a cheeky hickey or her tongue down your throat anytime you pressed the issue.

which is how you'd ended up here, it was a chilly wednesday afternoon and you were crammed into ellas car with the seats leant all the way back, the two of you peering at your girlfriend as she parked, locking her car and heading into the dance studio.

"tooney i don't know about this! it feels wrong." you stressed, fiddling with the strings of your hoodie as the head of blonde hair disapeared inside and ella commanded you both sit up and get out of the car.

"oh don't go mushy and moral on me now man, come on!" ella shot out of the car and you groaned quietly but followed none the less, the two of you hurrying across the car park toward the studio, crouching down by the window as the room inside pulsed from the bass of the music blasting out of it.

"okay on three we look, but we have to be subtle. she can't know we were here!" ella commanded and you nodded firmly, the girl counting down on her fingers before the two of you popped your heads up, peering over the edge of the window.

you both exchanged a look of shock watching alessia dance along to the beat with the class.

well...try to dance.

the poor girl flung her long limbs around and did her best not to fall at the eratic movement, rolling her body and popping her hips terribly out of beat as she tried to keep up with the rest of the class.

as the blonde tripped over herself and went tumbling to the floor tooney let out a sudden loud boom of laughter, your face paling as she smacked her hand over her mouth and the two of you ducked down.

though not before the older blonde had spotted the two of you, hurrying to her feet and mumbling an apology as the class resumed and she burst out of the studio doors, looking around before her eyes locked in on the two of you and narrowed.

"shit we made it angry. go!" ella grabbed you as the two of you jumped to your feet and sprinted away, alessia charging after you with a yell, her long legs meaning she came closer and closer as you and ella neared her car at the other end of the lot.

"tooney save yourself man!" you yelled out dramatically as your girlfriend caught you, tanned arms wrapping you around you and trapping you in their strong hold.

"i'll never forget your sacrifice!" the brunette saluted and wiped away fake tears, diving into her car and peeling out of the lot, yelling out she'd see alessia at training tomorrow before she zoomed away.

"hello footloose." you teased, tilting your head back to look up at your girlfriend who glowered down at you with a glare. "i hope that was worth it, because now i am going to kill you." you laughed as the taller girl dragged you with her toward her car, already deciding she wasn't going back to class today.

"tooney will make sure the police find out who did it." "my best friend? i'm sure i can sway her to take my side as an alibi." "okay ouch." "plus, no body no crime. i'm gonna drown you in the river babygirl."

"okay my love lets just start off slow. finding the beat and following the rhythm." you instructed softly, you and alessia stood facing one another in the living room, having moved some furniture around so the space was more clear.

with much persistence you'd managed to convince her to let you help her with her dancing, the poor girls private lessons only furthering her embarrassment as they did very little to help her keep up in class.

so once she'd told you she was going to quit you took matters into your own hands to stop that happening, and here you were.

clicking play on the music you started to move your body from side to side with the beat, clicking along as you did so, alessia watching you intently before you encouraged her to join in.

"see? just relax baby, stop thinking about it so hard and just....move."

it was around two hours later but you'd already made progress, you stood up on the lounge clapping along to the beat as your girlfriend rolled her body along and started to finally get a hold over the routine.

"yes! see you're doing it!" you cheered her on excitedly as she finally made it all the way through without tripping over. "okay now freestyle, remember what i said no thinking, just move." you ordered as the song changed and you continued to clap along to the beat.

"go lessi, go lessi, go lessi, go lessi." you chanted over and over as your girlfriend danced around the room, spurred on by your encouragement.

"baby you did it!" you yelled happily as the song ended and you launched yourself at her from the lounge, the taller girl catching you in her arms as you pressed your lips to hers, her hands squeezing your thighs as your legs wrapped around her.

"hey where are you going? we're not done yet you only did the routine all the way through once!" you laughed and pulled away as she began to walk the two of you towards the stairs.

"well tesoro i think this has been so successful that we need to continue this little private lesson in the bedroom."

#woso x reader #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #engwnt #woso blurbs

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anxiousnerdwritings · 3 months ago

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I’m projecting but I feel like platonic yandere Claire and Chris (maybe a romantic yandere Jill hehe) would love a darling who just never wants to leave the house, like they would fully (and toxicity) encourage it, you don’t wanna leave the house but you really want that drink from the corner store? Great news Claire’s on her way back and can pick it up for you! They would also probably subconsciously encourage it by openly talking about whatever horrible thing they had to dead with, honestly why would you want to leave when the world is so horrible, and obviously they’re telling the truth, why would they lie lol

Oh, definitely! A darling who willingly wants to stay shut in and away from the outside world is perfect. Chris, Claire, and Jill wouldn’t have their hands forced in having to keep their darling safe from trying to leave, they wouldn’t have to end up using extreme measures to keep their darling in place. It would honestly take such a load off. Keeping their darling safe was one of the bigger objectives so if they barely ever leave the security of their home then Chris, Claire, and Jill don’t have to worry as much. Not to mention, there would be so much less tension and hostility between them and their darling than there would be if their darling tried to actively leave them.

I could see Chris, Claire, and Jill not wanting to leave their darling all alone though, especially not for long periods of time. Even if the darling is cooped up in the safety of their shared home all day long, the others would want at least one of them to be home with them for company. Even if it’s in shifts until all of them can be home together as a whole. Not to mention, there is a deep seated worry in all their minds that one day their darling will decided to up and leave the home on their own while they’re all away. Whether out of boredom or finally being sick/restless of staying in one place for so long and wanting to see or experience something new. But luckily with the information Chris, Claire, and Jill come home and relay to their darling about what’s going on on the outside, even if it isn’t always exactly truthful, they’ve already instilled some level of fear into their darling about what awaits them if they were to ever leave.

As bad as they should feel about some of their over-exaggerating of what’s really going on outside the confines of their home, Chris, Claire, and Jill can’t help it. Not only does it help in keeping their darling in place for them to come home to but the worry and affection they’re met with when they walk through the door is everything. The look of concern and relief washing over their darling’s face as they cling to them, having worried if either of them would come back home hurt or even at all. So, as much as they should feel even the slightest bit of guilt over not quite telling their darling the truth it’s worth it in the end if it’s earning them some extra love from their darling. Besides, the co-dependency is a nice feeling too.

#anxious answers #yandere chris redfield #yandere claire redfield #yandere jill valentine #yandere resident evil #yandere resident evil concept #yandere concept

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bombsquad9 · 4 months ago

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𝐋𝗼𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 + 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫/𝐒𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝗼𝐧𝐬: 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 (PT. 2)

Characters Included: Jake Muller, Jill Valentine, Leon Kennedy, Luis Sera, Nikolai Zinoviev, Piers Nivans, and Sherry Birkin.

><—><—><——><—><—><——><—><—><—><

𝑱𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝑴𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓;

—> Cisman (He/Him), Bisexual w/ a preference for women

✞ Physical Touch: Jake is gonna be all over you, even if he (tries) to do it in a more subtle way. An arm around your waist? Shoulders? He doesn’t care, as long as he is touching you. You’re his, he wants to show you off, what’s so wrong with that?

✞ Quality Time: Jake would like to spend time with his partner. After he lost his mom, he is afraid anyone else that he loves dearly is gonna get ripped away from him too. He would rather have memories that may get tainted in the future, then be distant and regret it later on.

𝑱𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑽𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆;

—> Ciswoman (She/Her), Pansexual/Demiromantic/Demisexual

✞ Acts of Service: Jill isn’t good with words, and is a firm believer of “Actions speak louder than words”. She’s a busy woman, but either way she’ll find a way to take away from the amount you have on your plate. Though, if you were to do the same for her she’d be eternally grateful.

✞ Quality Time: Jill has lost a lot of peers, so, similarly to Jake, she would rather make memories than regret not making them. She’ll take any time off she has to dedicate to you, taking you a place you’ve been wanting to go, just laying in bed holding each other, etc. She doesn’t wanna lose you, even if deep down she knows she won’t.

𝑳𝒆𝒐𝒏 𝑲𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒅𝒚;

—> Transman (He/Him), Bisexual

✞ Words of Affirmation: Leon just wants someone to love him, man. He’s lost so many people, including himself, so he just wants someone to help bring the old him back with praise and love. Obviously he isn’t 100% gonna be his happy self with all the fucked up shit, but sometimes an ‘I’m proud of you’ just makes his day, even if it’s a little bit. He seems like he would break down a little bit if you told him that you accept him and anything he comes with (trauma, etc).

✞ Physical Touch: After a long mission, Leon would just wanna lay on his significant other and cuddle with them. He’s so touch starved and craves any ounce he can get from his partner. Hugs last a little longer every time, hand holding is common. He always will have an arm around your waist/shoulder in public because it’s so addicting to him to the point he needs it.

𝑳𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒂;

—> Cisman (He/Him), Pansexual

✞ Physical Touch: Luis, similarly to Jake, would be the kind of guy to never get off of you. He would constantly want to be all over you and show you off. Luis would definitely come behind you and smack your ass, but also be the kind of person to give you a nice hug from behind, so it’s a gamble. It’s all in good fun though.

✞ Gift Giving: Luis seems like the kinda guy that would see a cute little trinket that he’d think his partner would like, and/or reminds him of them and get it for them. He loves the little light in your eyes when he gives you something and you like it, it fills something in his heart that he doesn’t wanna let go of.

𝑵𝒊𝒌𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒊 𝒁𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒗;

—> Cisman (He/Him), Omnisexual w/ no preference

✞ Gift Giving: Nikolai, as he said, likes money. I'm sure he's got quite a bit (whether he acquired it legally or not is unknown, but money is money, right?), so why would he spend it on his significant other? He loves showering his partner in loads of gifts and won't stop, even if they ask him to.

✞ Physical Touch: Nikolai will never keep his hands off his partner, they're his to show off, so why wouldn't he? He always had a hand around their waist, around their shoulders, he doesn't care. It shows they're HIS and only his.

𝑷𝒊𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑵𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒔;

—> Transman (He/Him), Gay or Bisexual w/ a preference for men

✞ Physical Touch: Piers is a sucker for a good cuddle session, and will happily melt into a good hug. He loves holding his partner’s hand. He strongly believes there is nothing better than coming home and snuggling up into his significant other’s arms after a long, grueling mission.

✞ Acts of Service: He will happily do whatever you want, whenever you want. Piers loves helping you with things you don’t want to or can’t do, it makes him feel useful. He loves the little smile on your face and the praises you give him when he tells you something is already taken care of.

𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑩𝒊𝒓𝒌𝒊𝒏;

—> Ciswoman (She/Her), Bisexual w/ a preference for men

✞ Words of Affirmation: She probably craves praise because she didn’t get it as a kid, and if she did it was a half-assed “good job” before her parents moved on to something else because they were so busy. Sherry’s heart swells at the slightest of praise, even if it’s something as simple as a “I appreciate you”. It means a lot to her, and she is willing to dish it right back out.

✞ Gift Giving: Sherry seems to be the type who would make you cute little gifts. I can see her sitting down and making you a customized card for your birthday/valentines/etc. She also believes in giving thing with sentimental value, she thinks it’s a symbol of trust if you’re willing to give someone something you cherish, y’know?

><—><—><——><—><—><——><—><—><—><

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: None Currently

A/N: Comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

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jinx-s-things · 6 months ago

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Scream characters at the beach

Characters: Sidney Prescott, Billy loomis, Tatum Riley, Mickey Altieri, Jill robert, Amber Freeman

Amber Freeman

•She detests the beach but still goes because you love it. She brings all the stuff like: sunscreen, towels, sunglasses but most importantly; food.

•Wears a black sunhat to Match with her black one piece swimsuit and her sunglasses.

•Sunbathing the entire day but forgot to put on sunscreen so she got a sunburn.

•Went with you to get ice cream

•hates the sand getting everywhere and in her hair.

•Complains about how hot it is and there too many people.

•Watches the sunset with you

Sidney Prescott

•Sidney enjoys going to the beach and having fun. She brought a picnic and activities while you brought the towels and other stuff.

•you and Sidney never have time to chill out and have time together so going to the beach was perfect.

•She wore just a simple dress and sunglasses, she brought sandals but took them off when you two got there.

•Loves the ocean but doesn’t go deeper than past her knees.

•Collects seashells to give to you

•You both go for a walk around the beach

Tatum Riley

•Tatum likes the beach but also doesn’t she only goes to tan. She brings all her stuff with her like sunglasses changes of clothes water and more.

•Doesn’t really go into the water she only sits on a chair with an umbrella reading magazines.

•You then had a picnic and chilled until it was time to pack up.

Jill Roberts

•Jill doesn’t mind the beach she would rather be somewhere else but she only goes because of you.

•of course she brought her phone and skin care.

•takes pictures of you and her to post, she brought a ton of clothes to change into

•Just like Amber she forget to wear sunscreen and was absolutely mortified when her face was red as a tomato.

•goes into the water for a while before going back to lying down.

Billy loomis

•He hates it so much all the people, the sun and the horrible sand always digging into his feet.

•Lyes on the blanket the entire time does not go anywhere but to get something to eat .

•Complains a lot

•put way to much sunscreen on

•He had sunglasses on the whole day

•Watches the sunset with you then you both went home.

Mickey Altieri

•Mickey likes the beach, he brought loads of stuff like a surfboard, towels, even more towels, food and his most favourite thing; his camera.

•He likes to surf, not very good at it

•Films everything and everyone, he got on everyone’s nerves.

•Builds a sandcastle, he killed the person that knocked it over.

•He caused a commotion because he yelled SHARK everybody then dashed out the sea

he got escorted off the beach.

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vladajwrites · 2 years ago

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Razor’s Edge

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four

Summary; Reader moves to Woodsboro for her senior year of high school. This story take place in the setting of the Scream 4 movie. This story is dedicated to all of the girls living through the current Rory Culkin revival. I love and see you. <3

Also available to be read on AO3 here

It's imperative for me to mention MAJOR trigger warnings for this story; blood, violence, sexual content, alcohol usage, and mentions of abusive situations and suicide. I will add and edit tw's as needed.

WC; 5,043

Notes;

Part 3 should be available soon. Thank you for any and all support! It truly means the world to me. Check post comments after reading chapter for additional statements.

As you had anticipated, Irina was truly overjoyed to learn how your first day of school had gone. She asked so many questions; the conversation went well into the night after she had returned home from work.

“Could you see yourself becoming friends with any of the other students?” Irina asked from the kitchen table as you cleared remnants of dinner from the counter.

You set a plate down in the sink and contemplated her question. Thinking back on the people you met over the course of the day, a few names came to mind. Kirby seemed kind. You had exchanged numbers after film club had ended. Her other friend, Jill, seemed a fine enough person as well, though a bit more reserved.

You thought back to any of the other conversations you had throughout the day. Robbie’s awkward invitation played over, albeit a brave gesture, it didn’t seem like likely grounds for a friendship. Your thoughts then shifted to Robbie’s counterpart.

Charlie seemed to keep much more to himself. It felt special to have someone, practically a stranger, come to your defense in any sort of situation. Charlie could be a friend, possibly. A half smile slipped up your lips. What did you know, though? Maybe it wasn’t really a possibility at all.

“I don’t know, maybe. I think it’s too soon to tell.” You spoke over your shoulder, holding your hand under the kitchen faucet, waiting for the water to warm.

“Hmm,” Irina began, you peered over at her. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth, concealing a knowing smile. “Well, I have hope for you. Don’t count anybody out just yet.”

You nodded, loading glasses and silverware into the dishwasher.

If it were meant to happen, you figured it would. The only real matter of importance to you at the moment was pushing through your classes, giving yourself an opportunity to move you forward in life. It wouldn’t be long until college applications and standardized testing would be consume most of your free time and thoughts.

The next few weeks passed by as most did when beginning a new school year. The teachers, thankfully, kept most assignments and quizzes simple to build back the tolerance towards regular class work that had been lost over the summer break.

As you had also expected, the introductions and sudden interest other students had towards you started to fizzle out as they fell back into their usual routines. Although Kirby had become a welcomed energy in your space. She went out of her way to speak to you in classes you shared. She had even recently began to invite you to join her and her small circle to leave campus during your lunch period. It felt nice to be included, even if you had yet to be around them outside of school hours.

Charlie had continued to walk with you to film club most days. The two of you shared very little actual conversations. Most moments were filled with a comfortable silence.

You really began to pick up on things in the club. You’d write yourself small lists of the movies mentioned during that hour and return home to watch as many as possible while you worked on your homework. It was nice to have things to fill your time, distractions to push any memories away from before your return to Woodsboro.

The air had started to chill and change as September crept its way to the present day. It was a cloudy Friday, nearly two full weeks had passed since that first day of school. You were walking your usual route towards room 120A, Charlie in step beside you. Just before you were able to make it through the classroom doors, you heard your name called from the opposite end of the hallway.

You looked up to find Scotty Anderson gawking his way towards you. ‘Shit,’ you rolled your eyes. You had done a pretty good job of avoiding him and his group since the sports equipment bag debacle. You glanced over at Charlie. His frame was unusually rigid, no discernable emotion in his expression.

You sucked in your cheeks, debating on just turning into the classroom. It was better to just get this over with than put it off; you decided.

You took a few steps forwards, meeting Scotty in the middle of the hallway. You held both hands in front of you, tapping your foot as you thought of what he could have to say to you.

“Hey, I know we haven’t had the opportunity to speak.” Scotty began, moving the same bag of equipment up onto his shoulder. “I just wanted to apologize for running into you the other day. Definitely not cool.” It was clear in his tone he didn’t actually mean a word of what he had just said.

You nodded, biting the tip of your tongue. You never expected an apology, and after as much time had passed, you really didn’t care to have one. You were more confused about why he had apologized now, after days had passed.

“It’s fine man, don’t worry about it.” You replied, turning on your heel to head back towards the classroom. Scotty’s hand gripped its way around your upper arm, spinning you back towards him. You were visibly taken aback by the sudden motion and intrusion into your personal space.

“Look, let me make it up to you. Give me your number, I’ll take you out sometime, show you around Woodsboro.” He practically demanded, a sly cocky grin plastered across his face. He was just plainly handsome, the athletic and popular type you imagined some girls would go for. You might’ve given him a chance too, if things hadn’t started out the way they had. He was still somehow able to make his chances even worse though as he continued to talk. You weren’t the least bit interested.

You glanced over your shoulder. Charlie was still standing in the doorway, his eyes flashed quickly between you and Scotty. A disgusted frown clung to his lips as he watched the situation unfolding before him.

You looked back up at Scotty, shaking your arm out of his grasp. “No thank you,” you replied, barely above a whisper.

His eyes widened in disbelief, as if he’d never heard those words before. “What?” His mouth hung agape.

“I said no. I’m just not interested.” You replied, this time more sternly.

Scotty scoffed, surely attempting to conceal his bruised ego. He stomped his way down the hallway like a toddler. “Ugly bitch.” You could hear him mutter as he grew further away.

You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to conceal your shocked laughter. You turned back around. Charlie was gone from his spot. A stupid smile plastered on your face as you entered film club. If Anderson truly felt that way, he would’ve never made an attempt to come onto you in the first place. You found your seat next to Kirby and looked up at Charlie, believing he’d be laughing with you too over the situation, only he didn’t seem amused at all. He wouldn’t even look up to meet your eyes.

His cold shouldered treatment continued into the next week as well. You figured things would just be as they were before as the last bell rang that following Monday. Before you had the chance to grab your things, Charlie had brushed past you, disappearing into the crowd of students in the hall.

You weren’t sure why it hurt your feelings so much. He didn’t owe you anything. You were perfectly capable of making it to the club without him. But still, you couldn’t help but feel anxious as the next few days unfolded in the same way. He’d barely look at you, let alone speak to you. You were trying to wrap your head around why he was acting this way. You had done anything wrong to your knowledge, but then again, maybe you had. You couldn’t bring yourself to push the matter, though. You had no idea what to say to him.

That following Friday, during your second to last period, your biology teacher announced the outline for the first heavily graded project of the semester. It was a group project. He’d assign the groups and specific topics each trio would be required to present. The classroom mumbled and huffed at the announcement.

You listened carefully as the teacher made his way down the list of students he held in his hands. You glanced around the room as the group of prospective partners grew smaller. You hoped you would be paired with people you at least vaguely knew.

The teacher then called your name. Your head snapped to meet his finger dragging across the list he held in his right hand. You waited intently for the next names to be called.

“You’ll be in a group with Mercer and Walker. Your topic is genetic pedigree.” You sunk down in your seat. Eyes flashing towards Robbie, who gave you a smile and thumbs up. You couldn’t bring yourself to look towards Charlie, who sat beside him.

You dropped your head into your hands, letting your hair cover your face. You knew you’d have to muster the courage to say something to Charlie. The project was important, and you didn’t want any made-up qualms to affect the way you all worked together.

As class concluded, Robbie stopped you in the Hallway. You watched Charlie walk past without looking behind him or waiting for his friend. You followed his frame carefully until losing him as he turned down the hall.

“Hey, if it’s alright, could I grab your number?” Robbie asked. You’d nearly forgotten he was standing there. “For the project, of course. We’ll have to work on it outside of school, and just if you- or I, have any questions..” You watched as his cheeks turned a soft shade of red.

You tried your best to give him a reassuring smile and nodded. “Of course Robbie, yeah, that makes sense.”

“Awesome!” He sighed in relief, handing you his cellphone to type in your contact information. “See you in film club?”

You nodded again, watching Robbie turn on his heels and vanish into the crowd of students headed towards their next class.

Your last class of the day felt like torment, the minutes passed by so incredibly slowly. It seemed as though the second hand on the clock was frozen in place as you waited and listened for each tick it made.

You could feel eyes stuck to you as you sat, unfurling the hem of your sweater. You glanced behind you. Charlie met your eyes, he was mimicking your own movements, heel tapping on the floor below him.

He looked absolutely miserable, pained even. He looked down at the ground as your eyes lingered for just a moment longer. You suddenly felt incredibly guilty. Maybe there was something going on with him completely outside of school, outside of you, and you had been so entirely selfish to believe his change in demeanor was a direct result of anything you had done.

You sat at your desk now braiding, unbraiding, and rebraiding the same three strands of hair near the front of your face. How could you have not attempted to reach out to him sooner? You felt like an absolutely sorry excuse for an acquaintance, let alone a friend.

You had your belongings packed and together before the final bell rang, you’d make sure to catch him this time. As soon as the clock rang to dismiss the class, you were up from your seat, headed to the doorway to catch him in the hall.

He was quick to step past you, head fixated on the crowd in front of him. You worked faster, grabbing the strap of his backpack and pulling him through the doorway of an empty adjoining classroom.

He looked shocked as he spun to face you, his mouth held agape, before snapping his lips into a tight line.

“What is wrong with you?” You asked, surprised even by your own hasty actions. As soon as the words left your lips, you regretted them. What’s wrong with you? Really? There wasn’t a better way for you to ask what was going on? You silently scolded yourself.

“What?” He asked, taking an immediately defensive tone, understandably so.

“I mean, what is going on with you? Is everything okay? You’ve gone through quite the effort to act like I don’t exist this past week.” You replied, amending your original question.

He looked you over, scoffing. You brought your hands up over your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious.

“Look, if it’s attention you’re looking to get from somebody, don’t bother me about it.” He spoke just above a whisper, as if he could barely get his own words out.

His words made your eyes prick up. You felt your body heat flush as your jaw grew increasingly tense. What was wrong with him? His glare faltered for a moment, his hands dropping to his sides.

“I just mean…” He paused before continuing, “you’ve got Anderson. I don’t understand why you’d want me around.”

Your eyes widened in shock, realizing he hadn’t stuck around till the end of the conversation you had with Scotty the week prior. This was really the reason he had become so cold towards you? It was ridiculous. He was so-

You couldn’t hold back the astonished laughter, the absolute nerve. Charlie’s expression morphed into confusion. He seemed almost hurt to have you laughing in his face. Good.

“You really thought I wanted anything to do with that asshole? I didn’t even give him my number.” You exclaimed, throwing your hands back towards your thighs.

Charlie’s face bore the full front of sudden guilt. Your hurt turned to anger. He could’ve asked, but he just assumed. Even then, what issue could he possibly take with you speaking to or seeing another man?

You took a step forward, closing the distance between the two of you. Charlie took a deep breath, eyes glancing between you and the pointer finger you now dug into his chest.

“I thought you were a friend, you fucking prick.” You whispered just beside his ear. You could feel his heartbeat wildly pound against your finger, could nearly hear it from the proximity you shared. Or maybe that was your own heart you were hearing. You couldn’t have been sure.

Before giving him a chance to respond, you stormed your way out of the room. Making a beeline to your car.

Fuck. Fuck that stupid fucking film club. And fuck Charlie Walker.

You sped home, slamming the front door behind you. You rushed up the stairs, hearing your aunt call your name from the living room. You stopped in your tracks, shouting down to her, “I’m fine, I promise. Just need a moment alone.”

You waited for a second to hear her response. You were surprised she was home from work so early. After a few moments, Irina responded, “Okay.” She didn’t sound entirely convinced, but knew better than to pry.

You shut your bedroom door, falling flat onto your bed. It didn’t matter, none of it mattered. You didn’t need him around.

An hour passed by, and then another before you heard your phone ringer buzz twice.

You scrambled for your phone, which was still in your bag on the ground beside your bed where you had thrown it earlier.

Two text messages from an unknown number flashed on the screen.

“Hey, didn’t see you in film club. Everything good?” Your heart skipped in your chest. Could it be-? Your question was answered by the second message. “Robbie btw.”

You sighed, rolling onto your back, holding the phone above your face. You thought for a moment before responding. “Wasn’t feeling well, all good, though.” You added Robbie’s name to his contact info before setting the phone down beside you.

Another minute passed before your phone buzzed again. “Cool. Would you be down to meet up later to start on our project?” Robbie’s message read.

You thought about it for a moment. The idea didn’t seem particularly great, but it would be nice to just get it all over with. You responded with a simple, “Sure.”

Almost instantly, a new message was sent. You opened it to find another phone number beside Robbies. In a new group chat Robbie asked, “Where and what time do you guys wanna meet up?” The other number had to be Charlies. You rolled your eyes, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Your fingers hovered above the keyboard as you thought up a response. You knew Irina would be more than happy to host, and it’d save you a trip from going elsewhere in town.

“My place, 7pm?” You replied.

“We’ll be there.” Robbie responded.

You sent your address to the pair and locked your phone, shoving it in your back pocket.

You figured it was time to face your aunt, let her know people would be coming by the house later. You called out to her, hearing her reply from her bedroom. You stopped in her doorway, watching her pack clothing into a small black suitcase.

“Where are you going?” You asked, walking up beside her.

She looked up from her work. “I have a few meetings in Sacramento this weekend. I fly out tomorrow morning. I should be back by Monday though.” You nodded your head in response. She was always so busy, always had places to be.

“I’m sorry for slamming the door earlier.” You said quietly, picking up a t-shirt on the bed and folding it over for her.

Your aunt looked over at you, waiting to see if you’d continue.

“I’m okay. I just-” You paused, trying to find the right words. The entire thing wasn’t really worth getting into or being upset about, as you thought about it.

Irina’s eyebrow raised. “Boy troubles?” She said half-jokingly.

You smiled then, handing her the folded shirt. Yes, to put it plainly, just boy troubles.

“You know what I think about men,” Irina began.

“Better off without them.” You answered in unison, laughing with one another.

You stopped in the doorway, hand wrapped around the frame as you left Irina’s bedroom. “Oh, by the way, I’m having a few people over in a couple of hours to work on a project for school. If that’s okay, of course.”

Irina peered over her shoulder, a wide grin on her face. “Of course. Let me know if you kids need anything.”

It was hard to keep your nerves in check as the next few hours passed by. It would be fine, you reminded yourself over and over again. It wasn’t going to just be you and Charlie. Robbie would serve as a much needed buffer.

You heard your phone buzz on your nightstand; you picked it up quickly, reading the message aloud. “Pulling up now.” You quickly made your way down the stairs, kicking a pair of your shoes further down the entryway.

You swung the front door open without recalling whether you had heard a knock yet. You were met by Robbie and Charlie on the front porch. Charlie’s head was towards the ground, his hands in his pocket. Robbie looked around himself, mouth agape.

“You were totally right dude,” Robbie said, elbowing his friend in the side. “This was her house.”

“What?” You asked from the doorway, not sure you had heard him right. Robbie looked flustered, as if he were surprised to see you standing there.

“Oh. I meant Charlie recognized you on the first day.” Robbie tried to clear the confusion by simply adding to it. You looked between the pair. Robbie immediately cowered in response to Charlie’s shocked glare.

You waited for Robbie to continue. You couldn’t possibly understand what he meant by that. To your knowledge, you had never met either of them before that first day of school.

“Charlie’d make me ride circles down your street for hours. He said you had to be the same girl we saw when we were kids. We totally thought you just died one day after you stopped appearing in the window every summer.” Robbie said laughing, pointing at the sun bay window.

You were frozen in place; the air seemed to be sucked out around you as you thought hard back on those memories. Certain things suddenly started to click and piece themselves together in your mind. You glanced over at Charlie. He was looking at you almost pathetically, knowing there was nothing he could have done to stop Robbie from spilling any of that information.

Robbie began a string of ‘I’s and Um’s’ as he noticed your expression. You willed yourself to pull it together for a moment; lesson the deafening, horrible ringing in your ears.

“Oh, I think I remember you two, actually.” You stated. You had always had a distinct memory that fell in line with Robbie’s sentiment. You weren’t sure you’d have ever been able to place them both in that memory without Robbie’s over-share. You’d let yourself process this information at a later time. You watched as both boys relaxed a bit more into themselves, awkward glances still passed between the three of you.

“Would you guys like to come in?” You stepped aside, motioning towards the entryway.

“Please.” Robbie replied and stepped past you.

Charlie nodded, following behind him. You caught and held his gaze for a moment as he slipped in so close beside you.

“We can just hang out in the living room, if that’s cool.” You said, motioning towards the living room couch. The two men followed suit. You took a seat on the sofa, Robbie sat on the opposite end, while Charlie took a seat on the floor by the coffee table in front of you.

It was quiet for a moment as everyone pulled out their laptops, notebooks, and pens. You weren’t sure who would be the first one to break the silence. To be completely honest, you didn’t mind it. You were terrified that Robbie would somehow dig himself another hole, and you had absolutely nothing to say to Charlie. You hoped you’d be able to just get the majority of the project finished tonight so that the remaining meetings would be minimal.

Just then, you heard your aunt’s light footsteps coming from down the stairs. You sighed a heavy sigh of relief as she entered the living room. She wore a bright smile on her face as the boys rose to their feet to greet her.

“Robbie Mercer.” He held out a hand to her. “Good to meet you, Robbie.” She replied in her usual sing-song voice.

Her smile faltered for a moment as she turned to shake Charlie’s hand as well. “Charlie Walker, thanks for allowing us over.” Charlie said, giving her a courteous smile.

You looked between your aunt and Charlie, watching the corner of her lips twitch into a small frown before she replied. She looked almost off kilter. You took careful notice of your aunt’s unusual etiquette. “Anytime, Charlie.” She replied, placing her left hand over their conjoined right hands.

The gesture didn’t seem to phase Charlie much.

“If there’s anything I can get for you all, please don’t be afraid to ask.” Irina spoke before heading back up the stairs. The three of you responded in a short chorus of ‘thank you’s.’

The next few hours went by as well as you could have hoped for them to go. Once you were all busy at work, the awkwardness slowly dispelled itself. It was nearly midnight, and you were all beginning to experience the early stages of screen fatigue from your work. You all mutually decided to try to wrap everything up tomorrow.

As you led the two out, Robbie spoke over his shoulder. “I honestly think it’ll only take another day to finish this. Maybe one more after that for revision.” You and Charlie both nodded. “But, honestly, if I have looked at another fucking punnet square after this project, I think I’ll kill myself.”

You laughed as you turned the door handle.

The boys filed onto the porch. Robbie was quick to make his way towards his car that was parked halfway in the driveway and halfway onto the street. He stopped after realizing Charlie was still standing on the porch. You glanced between the pair.

“You coming man?” Robbie asked, fishing for his keys in his back pocket.

You watched Charlie, waiting for his response.

“Nah, I feel like walking.” He responded.

Robbie cocked an eyebrow, looking at his friend. He seemed slightly surprised, but didn’t bother trying to convince him to come along.

“Alright, I’ll see you two tomorrow.” Robbie said, as he opened his driver’s side door. You watched him pull all the way down the street before turning around to face the closed front door. Your hand had just started turning the handle when you heard Charlie speak up.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” You turned your face, dropping the handle.

You really had almost no interest in anything he had to say at all, at this point.

“Make it quick.” You replied, stepping in front of him. Your words clearly hurt him, and he did little to hide his grimace.

“Look, I’m sorry.” He started softly, eyes flickering between your own. You sucked in your bottom lip, leaning on your hip as you crossed your arms in front of you. You scanned his face in search of sincerity.

“It’s fine, Charlie. It’s done with.” You replied.

He took a step closer to you. You fought the urge to take another back, to keep just a bit more distance from him. You held your ground.

“No, I’m being serious. It was horrible for me to just assume…” his voice trailed off for a moment. He glanced behind you at the window bay to your left. He met your eyes again. “And the whole attention thing. I never really felt that way. Regretted it as soon as I said it.” His hand flexed at his side as he shook his head.

“Okay.” You replied breathlessly. It was all you wanted him to say. You both stood there for a moment. The sound of crickets filled the air. There always seemed to be something filling in the lapse of conversation you had with Charlie, in a way you had never noticed with anyone else before.

You were the one to speak up. “I can give you a ride home if you’d like.”

A small smile crept up his lips as he followed your gesture towards your car parked in the driveway.

“It’s alright. Thank you for the offer. I just live on the next street over.” He motioned towards the road.

“It’s really not any trouble…” you began. You weren’t sure why you felt such a need to insist.

He reached up then. His thumb ran across the small braid in your hair that had been forgotten about and left to slowly unravel since last period. You left out a breath of surprise at the sudden contact. He was so incredibly close. That pounding in your heart returned rapidly as your hands dropped to your side.

Your eyes darted wildly across the features of his face. His eyes were stuck on those strands of hair between his fingers.

There were no more crickets, no rushing blood, just silence.

He had pulled away before you could process the proximity. He was headed down the front porch steps in a matter of seconds. “Goodnight, I’ll see you here tomorrow.” He called, turning over his shoulder to say goodbye.

You refused to let yourself watch him make his way down the street. Your feet carried you mindlessly up the stairs until collapsing you onto your bed. You stared up at the ceiling, reaching for the disheveled braid. Your fingers traced themselves along the same spot he had. You had just about pulled the braid apart when your aunt called your name from the doorway.

You shot up in bed to face her, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Didn’t mean to surprise you,” Irina began. Her face was splotchy and red in ways that it never was. “I just wanted to tell you goodbye, in case I didn’t get the chance to before I left in the morning.”

You nodded in response. You rose onto your feet, walking over to give her a hug. You pulled away as she began to speak up again. “He looks so much like him.” Irina seemed to say more to herself than you.

“Hmm?” You urged her to explain what she meant.

“The Walker boy. He looks so much like his father had at that age.” She began trailing off, looking at the wall behind you before meeting your eyes again.

“You knew his father?” You asked. This shouldn’t have been surprising information to you, Irina seemed to know everybody who had spent any amount of considerable time in Woodsboro.

Irina nodded.

“Just be kind to him, if you can be.” She said so softly, you barely caught her last words. This took you aback. You were sure your confusion was apparent on your face. “It’s only been a few years since he passed. I’m sure it’s been difficult for Charlie.”

Her amending statement made your heart sink low into your chest. A resounding buzz quickly filled the space between your ears.

“I am.” You replied. You thought you were, at least.

Irina nodded, seemingly satisfied with your response. She turned to make her way to her own bedroom at the end of the hall. Just before she disappeared through the door, you called out to her.

“How? How did he die?” You asked. You immediately felt bad for even asking. It wasn’t necessarily anything you needed to know.

You could tell, even from where you stood, that your aunt’s eyes began to well with tears. “Suicide,” she whispered without looking back at you. It only took a single moment before Irina stepped into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

You weren’t sure how long you stood stuck in the hallway. It was a horribly long night.

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