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nugnthopkns · 4 years ago

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dance me to the end of love (iii)

word count: 4.3k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, potential percy jackson & the olympians spoilers, alcohol consumption, motion sickness and vomiting

series masterpost: here

a/n: this took me a hot sec to finish but here it is! there's a dumb little latin joke in here but that's just because i'm a nerd lmao

Ryan is certainly giving Bette a run for her money in the best friend department.

Magdalene has no intentions of usurping her best friend, but Ryan is quickly becoming the person she talks to most frequently. It started on social media but quickly moved to regular texting, both of them being twenty-five and capable of communicating through more normal channels. The text thread between them isn’t indicative of their newfound friendship – it looks like they’ve been friends since high school. At any given moment at least three conversations are going on, and Magdalene regularly sends him random updates throughout the day. Ryan likes hearing about any interesting artefacts she encounters at work so she keeps mental notes to tell him during their frequent phone calls.

Despite talking to him almost constantly, Magdalene hasn’t seen Ryan since they grabbed lunch at Barn Owl nearly two weeks ago. The lake house trip is a couple days out, and she’s been busy trying to get all her ducks in a row. At work, the current project is coming to an end and Magdalene will be sad to see it go – it’s the first thing she’s been on from start to finish. She’s got a neighbour coming to spend time with Caligula while she’s away so he doesn’t get too upset. Though the days are passing by in a haze as she tries to get ready, Magdalene is excited to get away for a little bit. It’s been a few years since she’s left Denver for more than a night, electing to skip on Bette’s previous vacation invites, and it will be nice to slow down. Life is moving at a comfortable pace, but having some time to pause and breathe will keep Magdalene from feeling too overwhelmed.

Halfway through her last day of work, Magdalene gets a text from Ryan that makes her nearly double over in laughter.

Julius Caesar walks into a bar and says to the bartender “I’ll have a Martinus please!” The bartender replies “Don’t you mean a Martini?” Caesar shakes his head and says “If I wanted double I would have said so.”

It takes her a minute to catch her breath, which piques June’s curiosity. Magdalene recites the joke and her boss rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but does let out a chuckle.

June didn’t think it was funny, but I did. Thank you for making today infinitely better. You riding with us tomorrow?

Magdalene tucks her phone back into her purse, determined to remain focused for the last few hours, and misses the reply telling her that Ryan won’t be riding with Bette, Tyson, and herself, but rather with Cale and his girlfriend to leave enough space for all the gear getting brought. She doesn’t see it until she’s walking across the parking lot to her car and it fills her with a sadness that doesn’t make much sense. He’ll be there for the entire week, so does it matter that he’ll be in a different car for the four hour drive? Magdalene has a sinking suspicion about why she’s upset, but she pushes it down. There’s no space in your life for a relationship right now, she reminds herself as she unlocks the door to her apartment. Caligula is waiting patiently at the door and distracts her thoughts from the handsome man with the kind smile that’s been all she can think about recently.

The cat is incredibly perceptive and knows the regular routine is going to change, making him particularly clingy. He follows Magdalene as she finishes packing, meowing and begging for pets, and she considers bailing on her friends. Caligula has mild separation anxiety and Magdalene doesn’t go away often partly because of it – though another reason is her homebody nature. Only the thought of seeing Ryan keeps her from hanging all her clothes back up.

“Don’t worry little boots,” she coos, “I won’t be gone long. Maria is going to check on you while I’m away, and I’ll be home before you know it.”

It seems ridiculous to speak to her pet as though it’s a child, but Magdalene knows Caligula comprehends what she’s saying. He’s always been smart, and the two of them share a bond that’s hard to explain. She picks him up, puts him in the pocket of her hoodie, and they spend the rest of the night packing and dancing along to the radio.

☼☼☼☼

Bette forgot to mention that the road to the lake house is winding, and Magdalene spends the entire ride with her head between her knees. Motion sickness is something that unfortunately plagues her during journeys longer than a couple of hours and she wishes she would have thought to take anti-nausea medication before leaving the house. Tyson tries to crack a joke about her being a bad passenger, but his girlfriend swats his arm and passes her friend a water bottle with a concerned smile. The two of them speak in hushed tones, almost certainly for Magdalene's benefit, and she does her best not to throw up on the floor of Tyson’s car. After what feels like two decades the vehicle rolls to a stop at the end of a gravel path.

“Mags, we’re here,” Bette says softly, praying that her friend will begin to feel better after stretching her legs and feeling firm ground underneath her.

There’s an unintelligible groan from Magdalene, but she rises out of the car and stumbles into the house. Tyson and Bette insist that she rest and they’ll handle the unloading of the car, so she crawls into one of the empty beds and falls asleep as soon as her head touches the pillow. It’s a dreamless slumber, one fuelled by the pure exhaustion of battling illness while travelling, and when she awakes hours later Magdalene feels oddly refreshed. Her energy level is still relatively low, but she knows that intaking food won’t be an issue.

Padding down the stairs as quiet as possible in an effort to not break the peaceful atmosphere, Magdalene is met with a quiet house. She’s utterly confused – she didn’t sleep long enough to miss dinner and judging by the way the sun is low in the final car full of people should be arriving any minute. For a moment she thinks the group left her in the mountains alone, but then the sound of a trunk closing breaks the silence.

“I fucking told you bro, you should have let me drive!”

Ryan’s voice echoes in Magdalene's ears and her heart skips a beat. She didn’t realize how much she had missed him or how excited she is to see him. Despite everything inside of her saying she should run into his arms Magdalene stays put in the kitchen, running the tap to get a glass of water. She focuses on the mountain on the other end of the lake, framing the setting sun and creating a postcard ready photo. The camera app on her phone is open and angles for the best shot are found. Ryan tumbles through the door a second later, arms filled to the brim with luggage and bags of food.

He drops them the second he sees her, running up behind her and lifting her off the ground. “Mags! Cale almost hit a deer!”

The shock of Ryan’s onslaught of affection catches her off guard, and Magdalene shakes her hand, forcing the picture to turn out as nothing but a blur.

“No hello?” She laughs as Ryan lets her feet touch down on the wooden floor. “It’s the least you could give me after destroying my chance of getting a National Geographic worthy picture.”

He smiles but doesn’t let his hands drop from their perch on her waist. “There’s six more days for you to nail it. I’ll even help if you ask.”

Other bodies enter the house then, causing Magdalene to slink away from Ryan’s touch even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. They’re simply friends, and she doesn’t want Bette to get any ideas. The last thing Magdalene needs on her plate right now is her best friend forcing her to paint a custom denim jacket with Ryan’s number across the back. “I can’t believe you almost hit a deer,” Tyson sighs in disbelief.

“It wasn’t even close,” Cale grumbles, picking up his bags and stomping off to find a place to claim as his own the next couple of days. A petite redhead follows after him, giving a small wave to those in the kitchen before scurrying away. When she asks, Ryan tells Magdalene the girl’s name is Livy, and that she’s Cale’s girlfriend from back home.

Everyone shrugs at his moodiness and disperses. Bette and Tyson stay in the kitchen to make dinner, Ryan goes to claim the final room, and Magdalene slips outside to sit on the patio furniture. The sun has dropped drastically in the past five minutes, causing the air to chill. She wraps her arms tighter around her legs and watches a pair of birds fly over the lake below. It’s so peaceful, a complete one-eighty from the insanity of her life in Denver, and Magdalene thinks about never leaving. She knows it’s impossible, but as she closes her eyes and listens to the quiet laughter of her friends inside the idea seems like a pretty good one.

The sliding door creaks open and Ryan goes through as quietly as possible. He tosses a sweater in Magdalene’s direction as he walks over, plopping down beside her on the small couch.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, slipping the fabric over her head. “I didn’t realize how cold it had actually gotten.”

He smiles in response and shuffles his body a little closer to create extra warmth. Magdalene leans into him, trying to appear casual even though her heart is beating rapidly, and pulls on the strings of the sweater Ryan gave her.

“So, are you excited for this week?”

It’s more awkward than she thought it would be – seeing him in person again, especially since they’ve been texting almost constantly, and the words kind of stick in her throat.

“Honestly? Now that I’m here I am, but I was a little leery about taking time off,” Ryan explains, detailing how he’s trying to improve some aspects of his two-way play and is worried his progress will plateau. Magdalene understands and shares her own worries about taking time off work even if her boss encouraged it.

After catching up quickly and running out of things to say, the pair of them sit in silence watching the sun set until they’re called inside for dinner. It’s nice to just exist, especially with Ryan beside her, and Magdalene feels her heart sink as they separate and he goes to make sure Cale isn’t actually mad at him.

☼☼☼☼

It storms the first two days at the lake house, forcing everyone to stay inside. Tyson complains about how he has less time to drive the boat that came with the property but the others take it in stride. Magdalene spends most of the time reading for pleasure, something she hasn’t been able to do much of the past few years, and Ryan joins her for large chunks of the time. It turns out that he too is an avid reader, and the two of them discuss their favourite novels and series while the other four play board games.

“So you’re telling me you wish Annabeth would have joined the Hunters of Artemis?” Magdalene shrieks in shock, almost knocking the wine out of her glass as her arms flail in disbelief.

“I think it made sense for her to,” Ryan defends.

“But she’s perfect for Percy!”

He sticks to his guns. “I’m not saying she isn’t. I just think that at the time the offer was presented it was the most logical choice. You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about what would have happened if she did.”

She ducks her head in defeat because she had imagined it, on many occasions in fact. When reading the series for the first time in middle school Magdalene had desperately hoped Annabeth would choose the Hunters over Camp Half-Blood, gaining the family she herself never was privy to. They return to reading quietly beside each other, occasionally knocking elbows when trying to turn a page.

Tuesday brings sunshine and clear skies, which means Tyson is trying to corral everyone into the boat as soon as they’re up. Magdalene tries her hardest to get out of it but her pleas fall on deaf ears.

“You’ll be fine, stop being such a wimp,” Cale jests. She knows that he’s just anxious to soak up some sun, but the words hurt more than Magdalene would have liked them to.

Livy swats her boyfriend across the chest. “Enough! If she doesn’t want to come she doesn’t have to.” The smaller girl sends her a kind smile before speaking low enough that only Magdalene can hear her. “I know your book is just getting good and you look like the kind of person who needs alone time to function properly. Enjoy yourself.”

Seemingly excused from the day’s festivities, Magdalene gives a sheepish wave before climbing the small hill to the house. Ryan meets her halfway and is appalled when he hears of her plans.

“Nope, I don’t think so. You’re not leaving me alone to be the ultimate third wheel!”

He has her off the ground and over his shoulder in a millisecond, jogging lightly to catch up with the rest of the group. Magdalene’s laugh bounces off the tree lined shore, and she’s too busy having fun shrieking at Ryan to complain about being forced to spend all day on a boat away from her book. Tyson peels away from the dock before she can regret tagging along, and Bette tugs Magdalene to the bow.

The two girls chat quietly, giggling and sipping on the mimosas they made earlier. Magdalene isn’t a huge day drinker, but Bette makes sure there’s more orange juice than champagne to make her feel less guilty. Livy joins them a while later after becoming sick of the boys and their shenanigans. It’s nice to hang out with a group of girls that aren’t competing for the top spot in a class, Magdalene decides, and she revels in the stories they tell of going to hockey games and babysitting the children of players so they can catch a break. Twinges of jealousy creep up at the wonderful family dynamic the Avalanche seem to have, but she stomachs them. She reminds herself that other people deserve to have support systems and excuses herself from the conversation.

Magdalene slides into the free space beside Ryan, and without thinking he wraps an arm around her shoulder. It feels so natural that she wonders if it’s how he greets all his friends, but the looks of shock and Tyson and Cale’s faces say otherwise. After a bit more cruising they find a small bay to anchor in for a while. The sun had climbed to the middle of the sky and is unbearably warm, leaving everyone no choice but to jump into the water to cool off. Magdalene does her best to float peacefully a short distance away from the group but is somehow brought into a splashing war because the teams aren’t equal.

Eventually the constant barrage of water chills her to the bone, and Magdalene swims back to the boat. She watches from the sidelines and cheers for her old teammates with a towel wrapped snugly around her. Ryan breaks from the group too, insisting it isn’t fair to have teams on unequal strength. Once dry, he picks up the baseball cap he brought and places it delicately on Magdalene’s head.

“Your cheeks are starting to go pink and I don’t want you to burn,” he explains, passing her a bottle of sunscreen as well.

“Thanks Ry.”

They muse about the idyllic beauty of the scene in front of them until everyone rejoins them. For reasons unbeknownst to Magdalene Tyson is in a rush to get back to the house, which leads to him driving very fast and a little erratically. The contents of her stomach threaten to come up but she holds them down, tightening her grip on the leather seat. A wave crests and Tyson hits it head on, causing the boat to lurch and rock. Magdalene knows it’s going to happen before it does and leans over the side to save a mess from being created. All the alcohol and food she’d consumed throughout the day is no longer in her body, and heat creeps up the back of her neck. She’s embarrassed – what twenty-five year old gets sea sick?

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked, not bothering to hide the concern in his voice.

She tries to smile but it comes out more like a grimace. “I just, uh, get motion sick really easily.” Bette passes her a water bottle and she drinks it quickly, eager to get the taste out of her mouth.

Ryan lets Magdalene curl into his side the rest of the way home, and rubs comforting circles on her back to ease her discomfort, doing his best to ignore the stares from his friends.

☼☼☼☼

The trip comes to an end much more quickly than Magdalene would have liked. Tomorrow morning they’ll pack up and drive back to Denver, returning to their normal hectic schedules. Cale and Livy are heading back to Alberta for the rest of the summer, and Bette and Tyson will be going for a visit as well. She’s heard Ryan mention going home in passing, which most likely means he doesn’t have plans to stay. Magdalene will be all alone in Colorado, but she’s used to it. The only issue being friends with professional athletes is that they leave. She’s been dealing with the loss since Bette and Tyson got together years ago – having them around as her support system most of the year and then them disappearing for a couple of months.

Not wanting to think about how soon she’ll be alone, Magdalene heads outside and starts a campfire. It’s a skill she picked up as a kid and it has come in handy over the years. The newspaper crinkles under the flame from the lighter, and soon the kindling is burning well. Everyone else is still inside, cleaning up from dinner and preparing for one last night in paradise. She places a few blocks of wood in the fire pit once there’s a good enough flame and curls up in a chair, lost in thought about what comes next. There’s rustling from somewhere behind her but she pays it no mind, assuming it’s a small animal wandering through the forest.

“Can I offer you some company?” a voice says softly, waiting for a response. The movement wasn’t a raccoon but in fact Ryan, and Magdalene gestures at the chair beside her with a smile.

He passes her a glass of white wine, which she takes with an appreciative hum. They sit in silence for a moment, admiring the beauty of the setting sun. “I’m going to miss it,” Ryan sighs, leaning back in his chair and extending his legs.

She nods. “Me too. It’s so quiet up here. Denver gets too loud sometimes.”

“Tell me about it. I’m not just going to miss the lake though, it’s also lounging around and not having to worry about hockey. And you.”

The ending comes out rushed, and Magdalene isn’t sure she heard him correctly. “Me?”

Ryan looks at her like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yes you. Why wouldn’t I? You’re funny, smart, and catch all of my West Wing references. There’s no one who gets me quite like you, even back home.”

It takes her by surprise. They’ve only known each other for a few months, and only really started associating after the party at Bette and Tyson’s. There has to be somebody who knows him better than she does. When she voices her opinion Ryan just scoffs, saying that people treat him as one-dimensional because he plays hockey. Somehow the conversation shifts to Magdalene, and when she lets it slip she gets lonely in Denver without her friends, Ryan asks the question she’s been dreading.

“So why don’t you get a boyfriend?”

“I can’t just get a boyfriend because my friends are gone,” she laughs, but there’s an edge to it, like she’s unsure of where this will go and how to question the follow ups.

He rolls his eyes. “I know that, but like, I don’t know, wouldn’t it be nice to not be alone all the time?”

It would be, Magdalene thinks, but she just shrugs. “I guess I’m not looking for a relationship right now. I just finished school and for the first time in a long time I can focus on myself.” She leaves out the part where Ryan gives her butterflies and that if he asked she’d probably jump headfirst into a relationship with him.

The topic is dropped then because Tyson comes out of the house screaming about the night is going to be wild because it’s their last together for a while. Magdalene and Ryan share a look of mild panic, but both of them are itching to have fun with friends so they raise their glasses in salute before finishing them in one gulp.

Magdalene drinks more than she should and wakes in the morning with a killer hangover. It seems that no one else is better off though, all stumbling around looking for Advil and coffee like it’s going to be their last meal. Packing up takes a bit longer than expected, but they’re still out before the official checkout time. There’s a bit of discourse on who Magdalene will travel home with. Bette wants her in Tyson’s car, no doubt to talk about how close her and Ryan seem to be, but Cale offers to bring her with them. His reasoning is that Ryan is driving him and Livy directly to the airport, and having the front seat could be good for her motion sickness. It’s ultimately Magdalene’s choice and the idea of having more time with Ryan before he leaves is too enticing to pass up. She bids her other friends goodbye, promising to come over for dinner before they fly out, and climbs into the cab of Cale’s truck.

Once again she’s a less than ideal passenger, but this time it’s because she sleeps the entire way back to Denver. The drinking took it out of her and coupled with the queasiness in her stomach from the winding roads sleep is the only thing that makes sense. So much for extra time with Ryan she thinks as she wakes up in the airport parking lot.

“Sleeping beauty has risen!” Ryan chuckles, “Why don’t you get out and stretch your legs for a sec? We have the parking spot for another fifteen minutes.”

Magdalene does as suggested because truthfully her joints are a little stiff, and finds Cale and Livy grabbing their bags from the back. She hugs them goodbye and wishes them safe travels, which Cale returns with a warning not to get into too much trouble before heading for the entrance. Once both of them are safely inside the confines of the airport, Ryan and Magdalene get back in the vehicle and finish the last leg of the trip.

She directs Ryan to her apartment complex, and he mentions that he’s never been in this area of the city. “That’s because you have no need to be around a bunch of university kids,” she laughs. Once they pull into the parking lot, he offers to help her take up her bag. It’s only a small suitcase Magdalene could definitely handle herself, but she wants him to come up, to prolong her time with him.

Magdalene’s keys jingle in the lock as the door opens. Ryan follows her in and shuts the door carefully, not wanting to disrupt the aura of peace that permeates the space. From what he can tell, the average size apartment is the perfect reflection of Magdalene – packed full of books and plants and feels very put together despite the owner being only twenty-five. After their shoes find a home on the boot rack and the coats they brought for the drive home are hung in the closet she leads Ryan into the living room. There’s a soft purring by his feet, and Ryan looks down to see an animal. He never pegged Magdalene as someone to keep pets.

“Who’s this?” he asks, bending down to pet the small white cat.

“That’s Caligula.”

A puzzled look graces Ryan’s features. “Who?”

“Caligula,” Madalene giggles. “You can call him little boots if you’d like. He’ll respond.” She picks up the animal when it comes to her and scratches gently behind its ear.

“Why would you name your cat something dumb like Caligula, and why does it respond to little boots?”

It’s then the woman realizes that not everyone understands the reference. “Caligula was the third emperor of Rome,” she explains, “But his real name was Gaius. He gained the nickname Caligula as a child and it just stuck. It translates to little boots in Latin.”

Ryan is in awe of Magdalene for what feels like the millionth time. Of course someone as smart as her would have a crazy name for a pet and have the knowledge to back it up. He feels his chest tighten with affection but he wills it away. She isn’t looking for anything right now, he reminds himself. Magdalene’s self-professed inability to reciprocate his feelings is frustrating, but Ryan knows he’d wait forever for her.

☼☼☼☼

additional notes: catch some extra content here!

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy @ricohenrique @lovethepreds @cutiesara23 @hockeyallthetime @stlbluesbrat21 (add yourself to the taglist!)

#ryan graves imagine #ryan graves x oc #ryan graves fic #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #cwrites #dmtteol

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dumdumsun · 4 years ago

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Forever and Never

A/N: A long one because it was a fun one. My absolute favorite chapter!

Warnings: mentions of marijuana, rape, blood and violence

Word Count: 6135

—————————————

Six: The Breakfast Club

“What are you thinking about?”

“H-Huh? What do you mean?”

“You’re smiling for the first time today. What are you thinking about?”

“...Stan.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Apparently, I had slept through all of my alarms because when I awoke the next day, it was almost nine. Cursing aloud, I sprang out of bed and zoomed to my closet, ripping out any clothes I could find. Not having time to pull together something totally retro as per usual, I threw on a maroon hoodie, wedged into blue skinny jeans, and slipped on my white sneakers. I applied deodorant and stuck a piece of gum into my mouth before slinging my backpack on. The school was a fifteen-minute walk from my house. I was going to be so fucking late. I was skipping every other step on my way downstairs when I heard a voice call out to me.

“Whoa, you’re still here?”

On my right was Jacob, sitting in the living room and watching television. He stood from the couch and slowly approached me with a smirk. “What are you doing here still?”

“What are you doing here still?”

“I don’t have classes today, Bug,” He lightly teased before gently pushing me towards the door. “Let’s go before you miss anymore school. Hopefully, you don’t get detention.”

“I won’t, Jake.”

I did. As soon as I opened the door to my English class, all eyes were on me like a newcoming circus act. Ms Anderson’s eyes cut to me the second I stepped in and before I knew it, she was stomping towards me, gently ushering me out of the room with her. When we were alone, she crossed her arms and stared down at me. I felt like a child getting scolded for breaking an expensive vase or something. “(Y/N), this is your fourth tardy this month.”

“I know…”

“Is there something we need to talk about?”

There are so many things I need to talk about.

“No… I just… um… I-It’s been a rough few days…”

“Well, I would let this slide, but I’ve already broken the rules twice for you. I’m sorry, dear, but I’m going to have to give you detention. Okay?”

Dammit, Jake… “Okay, fine. Can I just go back to class now?” I sighed. My teacher nodded and opened the door for me. Stepping inside, I was met with the smiles of Dina, Stan and Ricky all directed towards me. I returned the smiles towards my two friends before taking my seat beside Dina. Throughout class, two eyes bore into the back of my head, and I tried my best not to turn and look at who they belonged to. He was catching on. On my way to choir, I heard Ricky calling out to me. He was pushing and shoving past students until he was by my side.

“Babe, what’s been going on with you?” He gently nudged me, but my eyes stayed trained forward. “Oh, so the silent treatment… Are you gonna tell me what I did or am I gonna have to figure it out?” Silence. “Right, okay. I get it. Hey, listen, when you’re out of your bitchy mood, make sure to come talk to me.” And with that, he turned and walked in the opposite direction. Letting out a breath, I slowed my pace along with the beat of my heart. I never wanted anyone to dictate the way I felt, the way my anxiety sky-rocketed when they were around. But it seemed I was letting Ricky do everything to me.

When lunchtime rolled around, I wanted nothing more than to eat my first meal of the day. All throughout English and choir, my stomach had been curling into itself and I felt stupid for not at least grabbing a granola bar before I left home. After grabbing my food, I joined Stan at a near-vacant lunch table. He had been mindlessly picking at his lunch when I sat across from him. “Good afternoon, beautiful.” I whispered. Hearing my voice, he didn’t need to look up.

“Hey, (Y/N)...”

“(Y/N)? Whoa, what’s wrong?”

“Uh, it’s just Syd. She won’t talk to me…”

A pang of jealousy went through my heart. Knowing we’d never talk about our kiss the other night didn’t prevent my wave of disappointment whenever he mentioned Sydney. I mean, how do you even kiss a girl and then talk about a totally different one days later? As much as I love Stan, he could be an idiot sometimes…

I hadn’t even noticed I was spacing out until his voice spoke loud enough for me to snap back into reality. He had been staring at me with raised brows, an expectant look on his face. “O-Oh, sorry… Uh, do you wanna hang out later? Like, when we get home?” I calmly asked, my eyes flickering to the fading bruise decorating his eye. He shifted in his seat and returned back to his lunch.

“Um… I’ll see.” He mumbled, my throat constricting at his words.

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

Whitaker watched me like a hawk as I turned into the girls’ restroom.

“Don’t think I don’t know that trick, (Y/L/N)! You better get to the gymnasium as soon as you’re done!”

“Yes, sir.” I mumbled and closed the door behind me. To be honest, I didn’t think he knew that trick and was absolutely planning on spending the entirety of my detention in the restroom. Letting out a sigh, I leaned against the wall and texted Jacob.

Me: I got detention. Pick me up at 7 please?

Jake: Haha! I’ll be there, don’t worry

Jake: And don’t try hiding out in the bathrooms. Whitaker knows that trick

Me: Noted

Pocketing my phone, I pushed the door open and trudged to the gym. Even with the doors closed, I could hear Whitaker screaming at whoever else was inside. With a small groan, I lazily used my body to open one of the doors, the principal’s voice quieting as the screech of the hinges echoed throughout the room.

“Ms (Y/L/N), I would have thought that after getting detention for tardiness, you’d learn to be more punctual. Take a seat!” Whitaker boomed. Rolling my eyes, I moved over to the bleachers, surprised to see Sydney, Stan, Brad, Dina and… Jenny Tuffield.

I could be irritated with people all I wanted, but I never completely ignored or even spat insults or such at them, unless they truly did something to hurt me or the ones I care about. Hence the reason I ignore Ricky. But Jenny brought out a side of me I really despised. It was a side of myself that thought of the worst things to say and spewed them out without hesitation, resulting in a back-and-forth war between the two of us. It usually ended with death threats and flipping the birds to each other, but we’ve never physically fought. That could change one day, who knows? I could feel her sickening smirk as I passed her to sit in front of Stan, who looked bewildered to see that I was here with him in detention. I patted his knee before turning back to Whitaker, who had been waiting for me to do as I was told. Satisfied, he continued on.

“Now that you all are here,” He cut me a look. “I want you to take the next few hours and think about your mistakes. And carve out in your mind a plan for change. Determine how to improve yourselves. Define what the word ‘respect’ means to you.”

Get a job, dude…

“Now you can start by respecting this beautiful gymnasium. Between now and seven p.m., you’re gonna scrape up every goddamn piece of gum from the bleachers,” He stepped forward and slammed a box down in front of us, no doubt full of the tools needed for our manual labor. The six of us all rolled our eyes as Whitaker stepped back again. “Get started.”

“Uh, Mr Whitaker, sir,” I heard Stan from behind me. “Um… Will there be a break for snacks or dinner?”

Silence was his answer. Whitaker stared at Stan as if he’d just asked him to lick his shoes before exiting the gym. From behind me, I felt him lean forward towards Sydney, picking up on their very quiet and very short exchange.

“Hey, I’m really sorry-”

“No. I’m not talking to you, okay?”

Reaching over, I tugged on Stan’s jacket sleeve, the boy shuffling so that our faces were right beside each other. “What are you doing in here?”

“I called File a motherfucker.”

“You- What?”

“Okay,” Dina’s voice interrupted us, causing everyone to turn to her as she stood from her spot beside Brad. “I know none of us wanna be here right now, but I was thinking, if we divide and conquer the bleachers, maybe we could be done before seven and Whitaker will let us out early, so…” Her suggestion earned a smile from her boyfriend and a sarcastic remark from Jenny, who I nearly forgot even existed. She clapped her hands, everyone turning to her.

“Go team!” She mimicked your everyday cheerleader as Dina sat back down, a look of irritation on her face.

“I’m not a cheerleader.”

“Maybe you should be.”

“Maybe you should be in prison.”

“Ooh. That’s my wet dream…” She drawled out, running her tongue over her top teeth. I rolled my eyes and turned my head away.

“I don’t know, guys,” Stan spoke up. “This gum has been here for decades. I don’t think Whitaker actually checks. It’s just a social experiment, like a simulation.”

“Oh. Well, someone’s been smoking their supply.” Brad quipped. I narrowed my eyes and was about to give a sly remark when Jenny interrupted.

“You know what?” She whipped her body around to face us all, that wicked smile stretched across her face. “I have an idea. Why don’t we play Fuck, Marry, Kill?”

I couldn’t help myself. “What are you, thirteen?” I snarled. Our fellow delinquents stared between us with unease. “You say it like we’re about to huff some fucking gasoline. Are you supposed to be some kind of badass?”

Her eyes slid over to me, her grin widening. “Awe, Zip, I haven’t spoken to you in so long, I thought you died…”

“I wish you died…”

“So, who goes first?” Her head snapped towards everyone else, her finger moving towards each person in the room. “Eenie… meenie… miney… Brad.” She whispered out. Brad looked towards his girlfriend.

“Guess if I had to-”

“No. Not another word.” Dina shook her head.

“Oh, what about you, Miss Goody-Goody? Or are you too afraid to play?” Jenny gave a fake pout.

“Why would I be afraid?”

“Cool then. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Stanley Barber… Mr Whitaker… and… Syd.”

“Well, clearly, I’m killing Whitaker.”

“So are you gonna fuck Syd or marry her?”

Dina exhaled through her nose before looking to her right, eyes locking with Sydney. “Total life goal to marry your best friend, if Syd’ll have me.” She softly spoke, bringing a small smile to my face at their soft exchange. Of course, though, Jenny had to ruin it.

“Oh, so then it’s you and Stan in an all-day bone sesh. Ugh, you little slut.”

So over the sound of her fucking voice, I threw my head back in annoyance. “Jesus Christ, Jenny, you are so fucking boring!”

“No need to tell him about it,” She laughed tauntingly. “I’m guessing you wanna go next, since you got my attention. Or are you saving all of the sex and marriage for your little boyfriend?”

“Oh, bite me.”

“Ooh, where?”

Snapping, I slapped my hand down on the space beside me, my gaze set and locked on her. “No one gives a shit about you, Jenny!”

“And people care about you, Zip?! Where’s your fucking dad?!”

Fire in my eyes, I lunged towards her, but felt hands grabbing onto my shoulders and sitting me back down. The hands soothingly rubbed my arms as Jenny cackled. “Come on, (Y/N), it’s just all fun here… Now, for you, your very own Ricky Berry… Stan… and Dina.”

Scratching my cheek, I rolled my eyes so far back, I could feel them do a three-sixty rotation. “Fucking hell, you never give up. Fine, I’d marry Dina, fuck Stan, kill Ricky.”

Jenny lowly whistled as the hands on my arms slowly slid away. “But Zip, I thought you two were in love,” Her grin was something of evil as her brows bounced. “You guys had so much fun, fucking at his party. Oh! Or is it because you were drunk off your ass and he wasn’t?”

“Jenny, shut the fuck up-”

“No consent whatsoever… Boyfriend of the year…”

Having Jenny see me break down in front of everyone was not a moment in time I’d ever want to experience. She already got what she wanted, a reaction from me. She didn’t need a bonus. So, standing to my feet, I darted to the locker room, trying my best to block out Jenny’s laughing. I couldn’t help the tears that cascaded down my cheeks as I stood in front of one of the mirrors, hastily wiping them away.

Why are you letting her get to you? Why are you letting Ricky get to you? He can’t hurt you anymore, stop crying about it!

The creaking of the door sent my body into a stiffened, frozen state. That was, until I heard his voice, “Hey, lovely…” Turning my head to Stan, I sighed out.

“Hey, beautiful…” I sniffled as he made his way over to me. We stood in a comfortable silence, Stan understanding that I needed a moment to compose myself. “S-Sorry about that. You know I just fucking hate her guts-”

“No, I get it. We all hate her guts.” He cracked a smile. I quietly chuckled and stuffed my hands into my hoodie pockets. “Do you wanna talk about it, (Y/N)?”

“Not really… I don’t wanna think about it right now…”

“I know, but, like, it’s good to talk to someone about… you know, traumatic things that happen so it doesn’t bottle up-”

“Yeah, I know, Stan, I just can’t- I can’t think about it right now. We can do it, like, later… Not at school.”

He slowly nodded. “Totally. I understand. So… you ready to head back out? We’re not actually scraping gum. So we can just sit and talk.”

“I’d love to just sit and talk with you.”

Ten minutes later, everyone was spread out, Syd more than anyone. I had no idea where she’d gone, but apparently she stormed out shortly after I did. I guess Jenny knew how to get under everyone’s skin that day. Said girl was sitting against a brick wall away from the bleachers, where the other two pairs of us were. Brad and Dina were hugged up on each other, whispering into each other’s ears and quietly laughing. Stan and I were on the edge of the bleachers, the boy stretched across the one on the first level, and I on the second. As he fiddled with his rubix cube, my index finger reached out and gently traced his facial features. I started off with his brow, careful of his wound on the edge. It was clearing up and that caused a smile to appear on my face. Next, I let my fingertip brush across his lashes and he furrowed his brows, trying to focus on his cube. My finger then glided down the bridge of his nose. I quietly laughed when his eyes comically crossed to look at my finger. With a giggle, Stan jutted his chin upwards to gently kiss my fingertip. “Stop distracting me.”

My hand lazily dropped to his hair as I whispered out an apology. Not too long afterwards, I heard a voice quietly call out Stan’s name, but he was too fixated on his toy. My eyes looked to Sydney, who was standing in the doorway, desperately trying to get the boy’s attention. When she called out to him again, he actually looked at her. Looking between the two of us, she frantically motioned for Stan to come outside. When he only raised a brow, she did it again. Letting out a sigh, he wordlessly handed me his cube before sitting up and following Syd out of the gym, closing the door behind him to allow them privacy. Puffing out a sigh, I began playing with the multicolored cube in my hands. I never was very good with rubix cubes, my patience always ran too thin to finish them. That time didn’t seem to be an exception, either, because minutes in, I set it down and rested my head down to hopefully sleep off the rest of detention.

As I began to doze off, I heard the double doors screech upon Sydney’s arrival. She anxiously walked past me over towards the other side of the gym, where Dina and Brad had moved to suck face. I heard her call out to her friend a few times before she loudly spoke, “Look, Dina, I need a tampon right now.”

“Just dig in my bag.”

“I… I do need you, but for… but for something else.” She stuttered out. And with that, the two exited the gym. Suspicious about what my friends were plotting without me, I slowly sat up from my lying position and sat normally on the bleacher, waiting for one of them to come back. Hearing footsteps approach me, I knew it either had to be Brad or Jenny, and I was praying to the stars it was the former. As unusual as it sounded. The bleacher moaned under Brad’s weight as he sat beside me.

“Hey, Zip,” He greeted with a smile. I side-eyed him for a second before turning my gaze to my shoes. Scoffing, he shifted his legs. “You’re ignoring me now? Oh, come on. We’re friends, Zip. Good friends.”

“We are not friends, Bradley,” I almost laughed. “You’re friends with Ricky and I want nothing to do with him, so… I guess you know where the two of us stand.”

“Okay, well… Regardless, as Ricky’s best friend, I can say for him that what he did was fucked up. Right?”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Right! But listen, we all make mistakes, Zip. Ricky really loves you, you know that, right? He would never do anything to hurt you.”

I was silent for a bit, only to prevent myself from decking Brad in the nose. “Well, he clearly didn’t love me enough. Not enough to respect my right to consent-”

“Zip-”

“And you know what, Brad?” I slowly stood to my feet. “I’ve had enough of you defending everything he does! You can tell Ricky to get lost and leave me the hell alone!”

Before he could utter another word, I marched straight through the double doors. Three figures stood ahead, and I was more than ready to push past them, but I recognized each of them. Halting in my tracks, I saw Dina, Syd and Stan all nervously staring at me. Confused, I put my weight on both my feet. “Uh… what’s going on?”

Dina was the first to answer. “We… need your help distracting the janitor to get his keys.”

“W-What? Why?”

“Well, Stan and Syd hooked up in the library and got it on camera-”

“You guys hooked up again?” I turned to my best friend, who quickly turned to Sydney. She frowned and stood up straighter.

“You told her?”

“S-She’s my best friend! She tells me when she has sex!”

Widening my eyes, I let out a scoff. “I had sex, I don’t have sex.”

“Well, whatever, can you do it?” Sydney changed the subject. I looked between the three in confusion.

“Okay, but why me?”

“Because you have boobs. Like, a nice size.”

“Uh-”

“And,” Dina cut in. “Because you’re a great actress. The best out of all of us.”

My lips quirked up into a small smile, Dina satisfied that she boosted my confidence enough for me to accept. Lucky for them, my locker was just across from the gym, so I unlocked it and pulled out a spare tee. ‘Can’t seduce anyone wearing that’, Dina told me.

Shortly after, Stan and I were in a corner as I changed my top. He was nervously staring down at his shoes as I pulled my hoodie off. “I didn’t want you to be the distraction. Are you sure you’ll be okay doing this?”

“I’m not seducing him, Stan,” I chucked my hoodie towards him. He looked up to catch it, but as soon as his eyes raked over my almost bare chest, they darted downwards again. “That’s just a back-up plan.”

“O-Oh, okay…” He nodded as I pulled my shirt on.

Minutes later, I entered the classroom Carl the Janitor had been cleaning. He looked up at me and nodded. “Hey, (Y/N).”

“Hi, Carl. Listen. So, I kinda snuck out of rehearsal earlier and I need to get back into the auditorium. But guess what? The door’s locked. I really don’t want Ms Turner to find me out. Do you think you could help me? Please?” I tapped my fingertips together as he sighed.

“You know I can get in trouble doing that…”

“I-I know, but it would mean so much to me. I promise I won’t get you caught.”

“Well, what about the back entrance? She never locks those doors.”

He was right. Clearing my throat, I looked to the side. “W-Well, she did today…”

His eyes narrowed in suspicion for what felt like forever before relenting, handing his ring of keys over. “Okay, just get them back to me in twenty minutes.”

“You’re the best, thank you.” I grinned and stepped out of the room. Swinging around the corner, I found Dina and Syd waiting for me. Upon my arrival, they both grinned. “Nothing wrong with asking politely, ladies. We got less than twenty.” I cheekily smiled, handing the keys over to Sydney. Dina chuckled and crossed her arms as I took my hoodie from Syd and pulled it back on.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“The plan is quite simple.” Stan’s voice appeared as he approached us, two microwavable burritos in his hands.

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

“First, we distract Whitaker with burritos. I’m gonna put these in the microwave and blast these bad boys up on high, and then…”

The explosion muffled by the closed door was enough to get Mr Whitaker rushing out of the teachers’ lounge. “What the hell- What the hell is goin’ on down there?! Jesus!”

“...Whitaker will hear it and come runnin’. When he takes off from the teachers’ lounge, the coast’ll be clear straight through to the principal’s office, and then we make our move.”

As the principal moved past the closet we were all hiding in, Stan slowly opened the door, giving the four of us the chance to run out. As Dina and I silently followed Whitaker, Stan and Syd headed towards his office, keys in the latter’s hands.

“Syd, you’re the key man… Key lady.”

“Wait, why am I the key lady?”

“Because you’re… good with your hands.”

“Ew.”

“Dina and (Y/N), you two are lookout. You keep eyes on Whitaker.”

I crouched down and peeked around the corner as Dina did the same right above me. Whitaker had just opened the door to the microwave, the smoke engulfing him as he coughed and fanned it away.

“The burrito bomb should keep him busy for awhile.”

The two of us watched in amusement as he grabbed the fire extinguisher from the fire emergency supplies and sprayed it into the closet.

“That man cannot resist a fire extinguisher, which will give us the time we need to get in. Burrito bombs are disgusting. Last time I set one off, my whole house smelled like bean farts.”

“True story.”

“Gross.”

Sooner than we expected, Whitaker took off from the crime scene in a hurried pace. Dina and I quickly rushed towards our friends, the girl waving her arms in the air as I readied the door to the closet for us.

“Anything goes wrong, lookout crew, you signal us… and everyone take cover.”

Once Stan and Syd noticed Dina, they scurried off down the hall to hide. I pulled Dina into the closet with me and silently closed the door as we crouched down.

“That is literally the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s fair. It’s totally fair. Can you think of a better one?”

…

“Our best hiding spot’s probably behind the trophy case. And we wait…”

A collective sigh of relief filled the closet as the savior ringing echoed through the halls.

“...for the smoke alarm. Which will buy us more time. Which we will need, because there are a shit-ton of keys. Like a metric shit-ton, it’s ridiculous.”

After our principal took off away from his office again, the closet door slowly creaked open as Dina and I watched Syd and Stan successfully enter the principal’s office.

“Once we’re in, we head straight for the security system in the closet. And that’s it!”

The smoke alarm cut off its insistent ringing within seconds. My heart thumped in my throat as Whitaker’s form stormed down the hallway, towards his office in angry strides. Thankfully, Syd and Stan ducked down before he caught sight of them. As soon as he passed us, I gently nudged Dina out of the closet. “Go create some big distraction that’ll lure him away,” I whispered under my breath. “I’ll keep him from the door.” I stood up straight as Dina nodded and silently hurried down the opposite end of the hall.

“Whatever you do, do not panic. Do not bail… or we are screwed.”

Whitaker was seconds from the door and I had yet to come up with a way to get him distracted again.

“Okay, but what happens if your plan goes to shit?”

Finding the key on his ring, he began jiggling it into the lock.

“It won’t.”

I stepped out of the closet, breathing labored in panic.

“But what if it does?”

When the lock sounded, I let out an ear-splitting scream that had Whitaker jumping three feet in the air. When his gaze settled on me, he marched my way, steam practically shooting from his ears. “(Y/L/N), what the hell is the matter with you?!”

“U-Uh- Uh, something happened down that way!” I blurted out, pointing down in Dina’s direction. His head followed my finger before it snapped back to me.

“Well?! What ha-”

A crash sounded.

“Improvise.”

The poor man shook his head in exhaustion. “I’m too goddamn old for this shit…” He whined before taking off down the hall, away from his office. Once the coast was clear, Syd and Stan peeked up, watching as I gave them a thumbs-up. They gratefully smiled my way before standing and finishing the job.

“And if all goes well, as it should, we grab the footage, our sexcapade remains private, and nobody gets expelled.”

My shoulders sagged as Sydney walked out of the office with Stan behind her, holding up the flashdrive in her hand.

“Let’s hope this shit works.”

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

It totally worked. After our brilliant scheme, the four of us sat in front of the lockers to rest, my form sandwiched between Stan and Dina. He kissed the flashdrive and let out a breath. “Oh, I thought we were screwed…”

“We were screwed, but holy shit, we did it.” Dina quietly laughed along with the rest of us.

“Thank you guys,” Sydney smiled, the three of us turning to her. “Seriously.” She chuckled as I reached my hand over to Stan’s pocket. Catching onto what I was doing, he fished his case out himself.

“Wonderful idea, Nugget,” He pecked the back of my hand with his lips before I could move it away and slid a joint from his case. “Any takers?”

“You’re not serious.” Dina frowned as Stan took out his lighter. He nodded to her with furrowed brows.

“He is.” I grinned fondly at my best friend as he lit up the end of his joint and inhaled the smoke before handing it over to me. I happily accepted it and took a hit as Dina glanced around us, hoping no adults were around to witness the scandalous act. She choked out a laugh when Sydney accepted the joint from me.

“Since when do you smoke weed?”

Sydney slyly smiled and stretched the smoke over to her, my own hand taking it to give her better access. “Oh, come on, Dina. Everyone’s doing it. Don’t you wanna be cool like us?” We all giggled and watched as Dina hesitantly took a hit from the joint. Her own snorting encouraged our laughter to increase, the four of us blissfully unaware of what lay ahead of us just in the locker room down the hall.

We sat in that hallway for the next half hour, talking about everything and nothing as our time of release approached closer. When the joint was finished, we entered the gym to enjoy our fading highs in peace. Dina headed over to the bleachers, and Stan and I sat on the bench beside the locker room, as Sydney headed inside to use the bathroom. The two of us sat in a comfortable silence as he shifted the colorful columns of his cube. I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes, and soon after, I felt his head rest against mine. “So… are you gonna need a ride home?” He whispered.

“No. Jake is picking me up.”

“That’s good, that’s good. Um… now do you wanna talk about how you’re doing? I know that, like, we’re still in school and we’re not entirely alone, but I just wanted to see how you were after you had to-”

“I’m doing better,” I interrupted his rambling. “Thank you.”

His hands froze their fiddling before one shyly crept close to mine. I felt his fingers graze my thigh as he interlocked our fingers in a tight hold. “Of course, Nugget.” He muttered right as Dina walked to the door to the locker room, giving me a smirk before walking inside. Stan then held up his rubix cube and chuckled. “Wanna try and solve it together?”

“Oh, my god, yes.” I laughed. And with that, we were using our free hands to turn and shift the cube around, hushed laughter filling the gymnasium as we told each other ‘no, not that way’, ‘turn the blue one’, and ‘yeah, yeah, that one’ for the next minute and a half of peace. Once our time was up, the door to the locker room slammed open and a teary-eyed Dina stormed out, a frantic Brad behind her.

“Babe, wait, please. Syd’s lying, I swear to god! Please! She’s lying!” As Dina walked out of the gym, Whitaker walked in, watching her go. “You’re not seriously breaking up with me right now!”

“Hey! Which one of you punks eats burritos?” Our principal shouted, Stan and I stifling our laughter in each other’s hair and shoulder. “Alright, I don’t know what the hell went on tonight, but I wanna see everyone in my office first thing in the morning!” He gave us one last look before exiting again. As soon as he was gone, Brad turned to Syd with a clenched jaw.

“I offered you a truce, and you fucked it up. This is on you. You remember that.” He pointed at her before angrily stomping out. Stan and I detangled ourselves from each other as Jenny walked out of the locker room with crossed arms.

“Ah, another day in paradise,” She looked between the three of us as her smile faded. “So, you guys wanna get wasted?”

I scoffed. “Fuck off, Jenny.”

Waving Stan and Syd goodbye minutes later, I joined Jacob in his car. He smiled over at me as I clipped my seatbelt on over myself. “So? How boring was it?”

“Oh, a total fucking snoozefest.” I rolled my eyes, my cousin chuckling and pulling off towards our home. Halfway through the car ride, I heard him turn down his music and sigh.

“Bug, what’s going on with you?”

“Huh?” I turned to him with raised brows.

“You’re… You’re different. You’re quiet, you skip dinner sometimes, you’re sleeping in. You never do that, especially the quiet part. Jesus, you’re so loud-”

“Okay, asshole, I get it!” I laughed quietly before going completely silent again. Not realizing I proved his point, I jumped when he poked my arm.

“See? Something’s wrong with you. What is it? Is it Ricky?”

“I-” I don’t know why I wanted to keep the whole situation a secret. Things like this needed to come into light and Ricky deserved to be exposed. Sensing my hesitancy, Jacob nodded.

“There we go. What did he do this time? Did he forget an anniversary? No? Did he… cheat?” Silence. “Did he do worse?” My eyes darted away. “(Y/N), did he do worse…?”

“I don’t know if I should say, Jake-”

“You absolutely should say it, (Y/N). Did he hit you?”

“No.”

“No? Did he… you know, touch you?” His tone softened as tears welled up in my eyes. “Bug, what happened…?”

“H-He raped me…” I cried and covered my face. “I got drunk on his birthday and he took advantage of it. A-And then he lied and said we were both drunk. B-But everyone else said he wasn’t even drunk.”

A beat of silence passed before the roar of the engine slid in pitch. I looked up at the houses and street signs that flew past us in a blur. “J-Jake, what are you doing?!”

“We’re gonna pay Ricky a visit.”

Before I knew it, we were in front of Ricky’s house. Jacob silently released himself from his restraint and exited the car. I sunk down in my own seat as I watched Ricky walk out of his home and towards his car. Upon seeing Jacob, he happily waved, but his smile vanished when Jacob decked him in the face so hard he fell to the ground. My breathing sped up as I jumped out of the car, speeding over to the two. “Jake! Stop!” I screamed as he straddled Ricky, landing punch after punch on his face. Ricky cried out and tried to push him off, but it was no use. Jacob was so much stronger than him. I knew pulling on him and screaming at him would do nothing, so I looked up and turned all around, watching as some neighbors peeked out their windows and front doors to watch the scene unfold. When I heard a crunch, I whipped back towards them and almost hurled at the bloodied mess that was Ricky’s face. “Jake, come on!” I screamed and pulled him off.

Stumbling to his feet, Jacob grabbed Ricky by his collar and lifted him close. “I don’t ever wanna see you near her. I don’t wanna hear that you spoke to her, I don’t even wanna know that you looked at her,” He growled, Ricky frantically nodding. “Don’t ever associate yourself with my sister ever again or I will make sure your eyes are swollen shut next time. Got it? Got it?!”

“Yes.” Ricky wheezed out before he was dropped to the ground.

“We’re going home, Jake! Jake, let’s fucking go home!” I screamed and ran to his car, getting in the driver seat. Chest heaving, he strode back over to the car and got in the passenger seat, sighing heavily as I drove away, leaving behind a groaning Ricky. I hadn’t even noticed his bloodied and bruised knuckles until I parked the car. Like a worried mother, I helped him out and over to the front porch.

“Hey, lovely!” I heard Stan call out. Looking up, I saw that he and Syd were just about to enter his house. “Do you wanna-”

I fished out my keys and hurriedly unlocked the door, pushing my cousin inside and shutting the door behind us. After ordering him into the bathroom, I found some bandages and hydrogen peroxide and joined him inside. The next few minutes were spent in silence, save for the soft hisses that escaped him when I dabbed the chemical onto his cuts. As I wrapped his hands, I felt his eyes on me. “(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

“If he tries anything ever again, tell me immediately.”

“I know.”

“I’m serious,” He ducked his head down to meet my eyes, his own shining with unshed tears. “I promise you, he won’t lay a finger on you as long as I’m around.”

Setting down the blood-covered cotton ball, I nodded and allowed my lip to quiver.

“I know.”

—————————————

Taglist: @nate-isnt-great @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow

#i am not okay with this #ianowt #ianowt x reader #stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #wyatt oleff #wyatt oleff x reader #i am not okay with this x reader #ianowt fanfic #ianowt stanley barber #forever and never

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mirrorforevers · 4 years ago

Text

silently • graham coxon/reader

this is a direct result of this prompt right here

don’t b sorry love, we’re all horny here. this prompt immediately took me out of my writer’s block so yeah gsdjsdhgsdj it was a blessing! tysm for sending it n i rly rly hope u enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it aaaaa i literally couldn’t stop. this one has a special place in my heart now.

also please tell me whatchu think abt this one on my askbox! unbeta’ed bc i love danger

word count: 2.809

warnings: smut. shameless, fast paced fluffy smut.

You couldn't understand why the hell he was so nervous. On the way to your parents' home he asked more questions than a 4-year-old on their way to a park - what are they like, what do they like to do, do they know Blur? Do you think they will find my shoe ridiculous? I'm sure they'll think I’m a weirdo. What did you tell them about me? Even the many kisses you gave him were not enough to calm him down, leaving you to assure him that even if your parents didn't like him - which would be impossible, Graham was never better and more pleasant to live with - you would continue to like him. Very much.

Couldn't live without him, actually.

When you arrive at the door, your mother greets you with a wide, surprised smile - it didn't even seem like she had been begging to meet Graham for months and meticulously planned every minute of the time you would spend together. Her friendly posture seemed to make him more comfortable, the fact that your father was traveling also ended up making him more relaxed. “Dads are always frightening,” he’d say. He agreed to spend the rest of the night there after having an extremely pleasant dinner.

While he does the dishes, you and your mother clean the table when you decide to stop by the kitchen to talk to your boyfriend.

"It wasn't that difficult, was it?" You ask, a daring tone in your voice.

He smiles sheepishly. "Everything went significantly better than I thought it would, honestly."

“You did well. Not that she is hard to please, but you are really sweet.” You kiss him on the cheek. (It's so cute how he still blushes at these things after months of dating.)

"Thank you, love."

"I mean it. I think you deserve a gift for being like this.”

He looks at you, starting to pay even greater attention to the direction of the conversation. “And what do you have in mind?”

You whisper in his ear in the most seemingly innocuous tone you can feign. “I, for one, think you should fuck me senseless in the room upstairs.” He smiles, gaze a little lost in his surroundings as it usually goes whenever he’s pleasantly disconcerted by your dirty talk. Your hands travel his body subtly under his shirt. He hisses: “Can’t wait.” His voice is weak. You love to tease him like that.

You give him a little peck where his mouth and cheek meet – and then you motion to leave after a wink. “See you in a few minutes.”

“Babies, sorry to interrupt,” your mom arrives at the door, instantly killing off the whole mood you’ve created. “I forgot to tell you, but some other people from our family will be here in a few minutes. We’re not done yet!”

Graham’s really confused. You shrug and give him some context – “My family just loves gatherings in general. And they’re excited that I have a boyfriend now, apparently.” To which your mom points: “Exactly! They want to meet you too, Coxon!”

You can feel the anxiety building in him again already. He’s so uncomfortable it hurts, and you know his head is spinning. He doesn’t want to let you down, and after your mom leaves, you go back to calming him down again. “Baby, it’s okay, I promise. If you’re too overwhelmed we--”

“No, no. I signed up for this. I’ll be okay. I’ll have a drink or two…”

You completely discard this possibility. No associating alcohol to social abilities anymore after everything he went through because of it. “No. We’ll find other ways to calm you down.” After some seconds of a silent yet intense brainstorm, you have an idea. But you won’t tell him. “Ok, I know what to do to take your mind off the pressure. Just wait and see, and no beers, alright?”

“Alright… I guess.”

After giving him yet another peck while he finishes cleaning the plates, you quickly run upstairs to change from the tight jeans and band shirt you’re wearing to a very light and flimsy sundress. And that’s all the clothing you choose. It fits you well, and leaves not much to the imagination. You know it’s a family gathering, but it’s also summer, so no severe dress codes were being enforced in any significant way.

He reads your mind the moment he sees you in the dress, shaking his head in pleased disbelief at the sight. He mouths a small “you didn’t” while a stupidly joyful smile slowly shines over the tight expression of worry he once had. To which you mouth back: “I did.” You then go back to playfully teasing each other a bit while you take care of the sudden assembly’s preparations.

Your family members arrive and, as expected, they’re really thrilled to meet your guy. Graham answers so many questions, and ends up sharing so much of how he feels about you with them, and bit by bit, the warmth and wholesome aura of your closest relatives makes him feel truly welcomed. He feels like he knows you even better now, now that he knows where your energy and vitality come from. He could see bits of your personality in every single one of them – of course you are still the splendid whole, but still. It made sense.

Also, you noticed he didn’t take his eyes off you the entire time. He was hungry and you’re glad your plan worked. It was easier to forget about how hard sociability is when his mind was somewhere else.

After a while, though, you could sense him getting fidgetier. Even though he was considerably and visibly more relaxed than he was a few hours ago, that amount of social interaction, specially while sober, still drained a lot of his energy. You take his hands, announcing you two were getting something else to eat. You go to the kitchen, not bothering to turn on the lights, and though the house is empty you two could still hear the enthusiastic discussion your family is having outside, slightly drowned by the distance and the walls separating you now.

“You did so great, baby.” You smile, giving him a victory kiss while he envelops you in a tight hug. He’s proud of himself too, and he deserves to feel like that. “They love you already.”

“They’re just like you, in a way. I’m glad everything went well,” he sounds relieved, still tired, but relieved. “I couldn’t stop thinking about that proposal you made me earlier, though.”

“I know,” You plant a chaste kiss on his jaw. “I felt your eyes on me.”

This second kiss he gives you feels different. It’s longer. Famished. Purposeful. His hands are friskier now, traveling hastily throughout your body, and you alternate between giving in and becoming progressively more alert of your surroundings. You can have an idea of where this is heading. The swirling of his tongue around yours makes you dizzy, and the feeling somewhat akin to an electric shock – but milder, and definitely more carnal – that flows through your body when he bites your lower lip and brings your hips closer to his brings you back to reality. “We have to be careful,” you whisper, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air.

“I promise I’ll be. You look delicious in this dress, I… don’t know where to start.” He cups your cheeks while drawing imaginary lines across your lips with the tip of his thumbs.

“Think fast. Never took you for a quickie guy.” You chuckle.

“I like to take my time, yes, but some things can’t wait.”

And with that, with the dexterity and carefulness of a cat, he sinks to his knees in front of you, lifting up your dress with one hand and one of your legs with the other, your leg now resting on one of his large shoulders. He takes hold of your hips, angling you toward him. You hiss in anticipation, and you can feel your core burning in expectation too. Your hands now firmly grab the counter behind you for support while you turn behind you with attentive eyes to see if no one’s coming. You’re safe, for now. The thrill of getting caught is one that will never get old.

His eyes seek yours for reassurance. You, without a word, give it to him. You both look lovely bathed in moonlight. He teases you first, kissing and sucking at the skin on your inner thighs, moving closer and closer to your center until after a couple minutes of that sweet agony his lips graze across that aching part of you.

He flicks his tongue delicately through your folds, playing with your wetness. The way his hands caress your lifted thigh so delicately while his tongue inscribes poems to your clit is something that makes your stomach flutter, you simply can’t ignore those tiny adorable actions that make loving him so addictive and rewarding. Keeping yourself silent and struggling to remain somewhat composed to anyone who might see you from outside is a painfully arousing contradiction to the sensations you’re feeling. He’s doing his best to fuck you up, gradually setting a rhythmic pace to his movements with the intent to release the spring now starting to coil tightly low in your abdomen.

“Jesus, Gra—f-fuck. Fuck.” You whisper, breathlessly, while simultaneously suppressing a moan when he delves his tongue even deeper in your core, your fingers instinctively curling and closing a fist on his hair, making him groan. You buck your hips against his lips and you can feel sweat beading on the backs of your knees, heart threatening to jump out of your mouth by how fast it’s racing.

You suddenly freeze when you hear a voice from outside approaching the kitchen and you lightly tap his shoulder. Graham stops on command, but he won’t get up until he’s absolutely certain he should. He sprinkles your thigh with small kisses again, eyes droopy with the high from giving you the pleasure he knows he’s giving you while he admires you. The person heading for the kitchen takes a turn to the opposite side and you sigh in relief. “False alarm. Go on, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You notice he’s panting, and you can only guess how hard he is, judging by the tone of his voice. The time you spent frozen wasn’t enough to completely burn out the fire he’d already created within you, but he’s determined to give you an orgasm before anyone can interrupt you again – now he had two fingers moving, stroking, curling inside of you in delightful ways while his tongue began to work your clit in tight little circles. You could feel him moaning against your sex, he really liked this. And fuck, he was good at it. He slips one more finger into you, his ring finger, making your pleasure soon explode into a trembling climax. You couldn’t stop the little sound you made and he kisses your thigh in reply while still lazily fucking you with his fingers. “So fucking beautiful,” he whispers.

One of your hands move to your mouth in order to cover the sound you really want to make. Graham, once again, looks really proud of himself.

He slowly pulls his fingers out of you and cleans them with his tongue before he lifts up again as inconspicuously as possible. You try to look like nothing happened, and you’re both glad that, apparently, no one’s giving a single fuck to whatever’s going on where you are. Given the realization, you look at each other and giggle. He then pulls you in a hug, voice husky when he teases, and confesses, “You can’t imagine how bad I want to fuck you right here. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“We’ll have to take this to the bedroom, love.” You reply, still recovering from your orgasm. You can’t risk more than you’ve already risked. He looks slightly…

Disappointed.

You smile. “You thrill-seeking bastard. You enjoyed this way too much, didn’t you?”

“Didn’t you?” He questions back, tickling your sides, a wide, satisfied smile on his face. God, you loved him so much. He pulls you back to him again, and you turn to the other side so he can grind against you from behind. He’s rock hard. “We have some thick curtains here, after all.” You say, mischievously, before you close the curtains as carefully as possible. He lifts up your dress once again, this time high enough so he can fill his hands with your breasts, and he, agonizingly slowly, teases your nipples with his fingertips while he keeps grinding against you. This, alone, gets you motivated enough for another round. “God, Coxon, you’re going to be the death of me.” Your voice’s painfully needy, just like every other part of you.

You spread your legs a little wider to give him better access to you. Feeling cool air against your bare ass, you bite your lip and screw your eyes shut when his hand squeezes your butt. “Dripping wet for me. You’re glistening.” He quietly notes, giving your butt a little kiss - you then look over your shoulder to watch him get his jeans open. His hard cock bounces against your ass as he pushes his boxers down. You wiggle to get him inside you while he tortuously slowly runs the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy. When it bumps against your sensitive clit, you can’t stop the mewl of his name.

After a few more hard breaths, he was inside you. You’re hungry for him too, and the sound of your body clashing against his is something unbelievable. You begin in a faster pace than the one you’re used to – and that’s not a problem. At all. Speed is of essence, but you’re also starving for each other. It feels like no contact is ever 100% enough.

Your hands keep firmly gripping the balcony and when he lowers his chest against your back you can’t hold back the involuntary gasp that leaves your throat and echoes through the empty house. One of his large hands holds your hips in place while he fucks you mercilessly, the other one covers your mouth hastily – his shaky voice betrays how badly this is affecting him too. “Shhh, love. You don't want anyone seeing you in that state. So fucking tight around me.”

He was sinking more deeply into you with each thrust now, and trying to keep your eyes open while his now awaken dominant side is doing that to you, exactly the way you want him to, is torture. You feel like you’re going to pass out from the all the sensorial and contextual stimulation. “You want me to come inside you, baby?” To which you keenly reply with a nod, not bothering to uncover your mouth. This was perfect.

He edged his hips back so he reaches your most sensitive spot and his grip on your mouth constricts when he notices how loud you want to be. “Feels like a dream inside you but keep. Quiet.” His voice lowers to a breathy whisper against your throat and the hands that were holding your hips in place now snaked to the front of your body to help you get off. And like that, you do, coming a second time, this orgasm even more intense than the last. The way your walls twitch around his dick is enough to push him over the edge too, and you feel him spilling inside you. You milk him of every drop, and after you both ride off your high, you feel a tender kiss that lasts for a while in your scalp, a silent “thank you” while he slips out of you.

You put your dress back on place, trying to compose yourself before you can look another human in the eye again. You have a positively overwhelmed, just-woke-up-from-an-incredible-dream look on your face. “You better not get me addicted to this kind of risky shit.”

He laughs while he also does his best to look like not one hair or piece of clothing ever went out of place. “Sorry, Y/N, I think I already did.”

#graham coxon #graham coxon x reader #alex james #dave rowntree #damon albarn #britpop #smut #imagine #reader insert #graham x reader

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gainerstories · 5 years ago

Text

Freshman Fatties: Chapter 7

The rest of the school year passed in a blur of chubby lovemaking for Benjamin and Andy, interrupted only by the stresses of final exams. Andy was particularly excelling in school now that he didn’t have to worry about football. His grades improved drastically and he actually found himself enjoying classes, instead of seeing them as a stressor. Both boys found themselves increasingly distant from the outside world, focusing primarily on each other, eating, and school. Naturally, they continued to gain weight at a surprising pace. Their week of maximum gains seemed to kick their appetites into overdrive and both were constantly munching on something.

By the last week of school Andy had gained an additional thirty pounds and was now clocking in at nearly three hundred and fifty. The former football star had officially put on over one hundred pounds since he began university, and the effects on his daily life were noticeable. Tying his shoes became a difficult feat with Benjamin usually stepping in to help. His chub rub and heartburn were through the roof and for the first time he was finding it difficult to get around. No matter the weather, walking to class caused him to break a sweat. The worst was that he no longer fit in auditorium seating. The flimsy tabletops only allowed about a foot of belly fat before they couldn’t be used. This meant Andy had to begin using the handicap seating.

Andy’s gut was truly a mountain of lard that passersby would often gawked at. It entered the room before he did, and would loudly announce its discomfort when hungry or too full. Andy had to buy all new T-shirts to cover his rounded stomach, and even still he couldn’t tell when his belly was hanging out anymore. It wouldn’t be until he waddled to the bathroom that he’d realize he’d been putting on a show all day. At first, he wasn’t a fan of the bright red stretchmarks that were constantly showing up all over his body, but Benjamin talked down those anxieties. The former twink now lathered his boyfriend in cocoa butter every night before bed to soothe the itching and redness.

In the same amount of time Benjamin had gained about fifteen pounds, sitting plump and pretty at two hundred and thirty five pounds total. His weight gain continued to distribute more evenly than his counterpart, with only a bit of extra hanging from his stomach and rear. For the first time, Benjamin had a bit of an overhang that wobbled and bounced with each step. He also found auditorium seating recently difficult, but he could still fit behind the desks unlike his boyfriend. Benjamin also struggled with clothing. It seemed as though he’d outgrow something as soon as he purchased it and he beginning to get frustrated.

“Look at these joggers!” Benjamin exclaimed. “The elastic is at max capacity now and I just bought them. They’re so uncomfortable! And this shirt? Sure it covers me but its always riding up on my sides. Like after a few steps these love handles are catching the breeze.”

“Hey, at least you can feel the breeze,” Andy retorted. “I can’t count the amount of days I’ve waltzed around with my gut on display.”

“God, who knew getting fat would change how you exist in the world so much.”

“Come talk to me when you have to sit to pee, little one.”

“Hey, you never know. Someday, probably. You just had a head start Mr. Ex-Jock,” Benjamin replied and thwacked his boyfriend’s gut. “I’m just sick of buying clothes is all. It’s getting expensive.”

“Hey why don’t you take some clothes of mine. I definitely have a few shirts I only wear under things because my belly hangs out,” Andy suggested.

The former jock lumbered to his closet and pulled out a few tees, a button-up, and a jacket.

“How about these? They’ll definitely fit you.”

“I don’t know… I’ve learned it’s probably best to stay away from buttons. But I’ll take the shirts,” Benjamin grabbed the clothes and held them to his face. “Mmm they smell like you too. Maybe I’ll wear one of these to the party tonight.”

“Wait, what party? You didn’t tell me about a party?”

“Andrew Zalinski’s party… at University Tower? I told you, like, last week.”

“I don’t know Benjamin… I don’t know if I’m up for that.”

“Come on! You promised. And we never get out of the house and socialize. This will be good for us.”

The couple arrived at the party fashionably late. Both wore the loosest fitting clothing they owned which was still tight, skintight in Benjamin’s case. The apartment was already packed and the air was stuffy with body sweat. Andy was already sweating from walking there and Benjamin could feel beads of sweat developing in his pits and back. The struggled to squeeze through the crowd into the kitchen, where they each grabbed a beer. Neither saw anyone they knew for the first half hour, sticking side by side and guzzling booze. Finally some mutual friends showed up and they all began to chat and nervously drink in excess.

“Hey, so,” Eliza, a drunken fellow lit major began while looking at Andy, “we’ve all heard how you got kicked off the team for being too fat. And like sure, athletes get fat in school, maybe not this fat,” she gestured at Andy wildly, “but sure they get fat… But you my dear twink,” she turned to Benjamin, “twink? Are you even a twink anymore?”

“Eliza you’re being rude,” someone cut in.

“It’s just a little shocking to see is all!” She continued, “Like you both got hella fat hella fast. I’m curious what the story is!”

“Eliza, stop!” someone else shouted.

“Hey, it’s true though,” a random voice chimed in.

Andy’s face grew beat red and Benjamin decided to step in, “No, I mean, yeah… It’s true. We put on some weight, like relationship weight you know? We don’t mind, we actually are kinda enjoying it.”

“Look,” a different friend stepped in, “I think Eliza is just worried about you guys. Are you doing okay?”

“No,” Eliza drunkenly interrupted, “Eliza is curious how the sex works with that big belly.”

Eliza pulled up Andy’s shirt and gave his gut a shake and multiple people bellowed “ohh shiiit.” The boys exchanged glances and Benjamin decided to lift his shirt too and give it a stong shake with both hands. He noticed a few people had their phones out and he continued with the show.

“More cushion for the pushin’,” Benjamin exclaimed and the room erupted in laughter. He kissed Andy on the cheek and announced, “I think it’s time we do a shot. Eliza, my recommendation is that you get ploughed by a chubby guy. It’s done wonders for me! After that all your questions will be answered!”

At this point several people were watching the scene unfold, snapping photos and videos for social media. Andy hated all the attention, but was turned on by how Benjamin had reclaimed the situation. They stumbled into the kitchen and threw back a shot and then one more. Andy then grabbed Benjamin by the hand and led him into the bathroom, locking the door. The former jock plopped himself on the toilet and pushed his boyfriend against the wall in front of him.

“That was so hot, you fat fucking faggot,” Andy slurred.

He unzipped Benjamin’s pants and took his cock in his mouth.

#gainer stories #freshmanfatties

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tuttifuckinfruttifriday · 4 years ago

Note

I would like to request a matchup (Take your time, Yo!)

My Apperance

Short dark brown hair (like pixie but the top is grown out)

I’m 5’4, 120 - 130lbs

I wear glasses/contacts

Style of clothes depends on mood and day. But I like Plaid, long cardigans and cool boots. I tend not to wear white just cause I look bad in it.

My Personality//Hobbies//Traits

I’m an introvert, I have social anxiety and I’m depressed. I have Tourette’s (Blinking excessively and face scrunching) and play video games occasionally as well as watch horror films. I’m friendly If get close to someone. I keep my emotions to myself ( or try to ) I don’t get scared at horror films. I have intrusive thoughts, and escape reality by living in my head as a coping mechanism. I’m not (any longer) suicidal but I’m self destructive. Despite being a perfectionist I’m lazy and unmotivated. I don’t have a type and try to stay nonjudgmental. I listen to music more hours than not. I have a fear of pregnancy and dying. I’m a Pan-romantic Asexual but I’ve never felt romantically attracted to anyone but I’m open to the idea of dating any identity, and will date someone if they want to date me. I’m a cat person through and through. I can get peeved but tend not to lose my temper. I’m usually laid back and go with the flow. I’m fairly unopinionated and am open to changing my opinions when presented new information and new perspectives. I’m a lazy bottom, soft dom. I need control even if it’s undisclosed but I’m not motivated or confident enough to be a top. I say things like “Yo” and use SIR as an disrespectful term. I collect porcelain dolls and taxidermy. I can be an affection person but It varies, I’m not good at serious/sexy flirting and am better at fun playful type flirting . I am always ready for them to leave me or something to happen but I don’t anticipate it. I’m a realist pessimist. I used to draw and still do occasionally. I have a hard time expressing excitement especially when receiving gifts. I can’t empathize well but I try, or I’ll avoid the situation entirely. I haven’t sang out loud in years even by myself and don’t dance Unironically infront of others. I enjoy being a main source of comfort//conversation for others and having other people talk to me first.

(NOT SURE THIS HELPS BUT)

My Briggs personality is INTP

I’m a Taurus (I don’t read heavily into Zodiacs but if it helps)

Was this too much?😥

It’s not too much Love! ❤️ Ik u said take your time but still so sorry that it took so long, I had to sleep on it🥺

I hope you’re okay bby💕💕know that my messages are always open

Love u❤️

I match you with:

Michael Myers(JC/RZ)!

Other possibilities: Norman Bate, Brahms Heeslhire, The Collector, Ash Williams, Bo Sinclair, Drayton Sawyer, Nubbins Sawyer, Thomas Hewitt, poly!GhostFace, Amanda Young, ChromeSkull

He doesn’t really care much about apperances, but he likes your hair^^ he’ll play in it when he’s sitting or laying with you

He loves towering over you. That’s the only thing I’ll say.

Prefers when you wear glasses, he won’t say it, but he likes the way they frame your eyes and make them look bigger, it’s really cute ❤️

He doesn’t really care how you dress, but its still nice

And he might steal your cardigans if they’re big enough

And he’s glad you don’t wear white. Or you would have to throw all your white clothes away because of some... ketchup stains.

He doesn’t know much about depression, a dirty and all that, but he’ll make sure you’re okay and he will never force you to do anything you don’t want to.

He’ll let you cuddle with him and will be your shoulder to cry on, anything for you💕

When he sees you blinking and scrunching your face repetitively, he’s like: *????*

But when you tell him that it’s normal for you, he’ll just shrug and walk, or when he feels in the mood, he’ll just pet your head

Play video games with him, please. Just let him win if you don’t want your console to go through the window.

But he would love to, even if he doesn’t shows it, watch horror movies with you <3

He’s not friendly if he gets close to someone, except if you count stabbing friendly. You’re the only exception, even if he wasn’t friendly when you got close to him. But in all, he still finds it nice

You can let any emotion show with him, he loves you 💕💕

He obviously doesn’t get scared at movies too.

He’d help you the best he can with your intrusive thoughts, he’s got his share of them.

But he won’t hesitate to get you back to reality if you’re gone for too long

He will glare daggers at you whenever he hears you talking shit about yourself. Don’t do that, or he might won’t hesitate to stab lock you in the basement

Kind of understands your perfectionism

He’s lazy too when he doesn’t kill. Prepare your goodbyes to you laziness and unmotivation, because he’ll make you walk around the house for absolutely no reasons, if you’re too lazy that is.

He’ll probably take you to watch him kill if you want something to do.

You don’t judge him, he won’t judge you.

He’d be happy to just sit with you cuddled on his lap and listen to music with you, especially if it’s old rock(RZ Michael 👀)

If you don’t want to get pregnant, it’s okay.

And don’t fear dying if you’re respectful to him, he’ll always protect you.

He doesn’t care if you’re not attracted romantically to him, he’ll go with whatever you give him and cherish you❤️

But if you say you’re dating, he’ll say the same 🤷🏻‍♀️

Is ABSOLUTELY a cat person. Don’t argue with me ont that.

Makes you loose your tempers anytime.

He lives to see you get mad.

He’s the one to control the relationship and your life, so lay back and enjoy 😌

He doesn’t really have opinions .

You’ll probably never be dom with this life controlling maniac, but like I said earlier, lay back and enjoy him hammering in you—

Too bad if you don’t like that because he won’t be slow.👀

Whenever he feels like it he’ll make you ride him, but if you’re not going at his pace, he won’t hesitate to take things into his own hands and flip you.

He’ll make you comfortable enough, don’t you worry 😏

Even if you call him sir when you’re mad or in a bad way, he’s still turned on. Don’t ask.

He absolutely loves the power he has over you.

Only thing that Michael is freaked by: Dolls

Won’t hesitate to yeet/throw your dolls through the window if they scared him.

He doesn’t understands taxidermy, but he isn’t against .

He takes all the affection you give him

He isn’t good at flirting too, makes two of you 👌

He’s sexy anytime of the day.

He won’t leave you if you don’t give him a reason to, seriously. And it takes something big. Don’t worry 💕

He will reassure you whenever you need it. But he’s a little pessimist too

Whenever you’d draw, he’d just look over your shoulder and watch you, it calms him

He tries to empathize (with you) too, and literally can’t express anything, so he doesn’t care

He doesn’t dance or sing, but if he hears you humming or signing he’ll be there in a second, and you won’t even know it

But you’ll be the one talking to him, or it will take a really long time.

Hope you like it 🥺 sorry if it looks kind of rushed... don’t hesitate to tell me if I missed anything!❤️💕

#matchup #michael myers

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floatingpetals · 6 years ago

Text

Boys in Blue || Pt. 3

Pairings: cop!Stucky x F!Reader

Warnings: none, maybe language

Word Count: 1700+

Summary: (Cop AU) There was just one crappy thing after enough that happened to her. It possibly couldn’t get any worse, or so she thought until she saw the dreaded flashes of red and blue behind her. Could things get any worse?

A/N: This chapter I had to separate because it got way too long. So I have the next part done lol. and yes, the reader likes to name people puns on her phone. I hope you all enjoy! Let me know what you think!

The gifs are not mine, credit to the owner.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Series Masterlist

Y/N woke the next morning to a slight headache, a dry mouth and a nagging feeling she had done something stupid. She couldn’t really remember what exactly, it was all a blur. She remembered drinking, Maria being a pain, and fates idea of humor. It wasn’t until she rolled over and looked at her cellphone that it hit her. She gave her number to Bucky and Steve last night.

Well ‘gave’ was a loose term. She more or less threw it at them before bolting out the bar like a wuss. And staring back at her was a notification from an unknown number and a sweet little message.

(Unknown Number)-Morning, doll. How you feelin’ this morning?

(Unknown Number)-It’s Bucky btw

Staring blearily at the words, Y/N felt a scream bubble up her throat, stopping just short of exploding from her lips. Oh dear God, what did Maddie make her do? Sitting up, she sent a frantic text to Maddie.

(Y/N) -DUDE?!

(Y/N)-WHAT THE HELL?!

(Y/N)-YOU MADE ME GIVE THEM THE NUMBER AND NOW BUCKY’S TEXTING ME!

Maddie was quick to respond, but with less intensity.

(Madaroni 🍝)-The horror. How dare a man attracted to you, that has your number, text you back.

(Madaroni 🍝)- Grow some balls, and text him back.

(Madaroni 🍝)- Who knows, maybe you’ll get to see his.

(Y/N)- Dear god.

(Y/N)- Married life sure has made you a little vulgar, hasn’t it?

(Madaroni 🍝)- Jason likes it. That’s why he married me.

(Madaroni 🍝)- Just text him back. It’s nbd

(Y/N)- … What do I say?

There wasn’t a reply, instead, her phone lit up, Maddie’s name lit up on her screen. Quickly answering the call, Y/N bit her lip.

“Alright. When did you become some a little brat?”

“I just woke up.” Y/N huffed. “You could be nicer.”

“I’d be nicer if you’d stop freaking out over a guy,” Maddie replied drying. In the background, Y/N could make out the soft babbling of baby Lexi. “Listen, they both like you. You have nothing to be worried about. You’ve already yelled at them before they even knew your name, and they still shamelessly flirted with you. Honestly, I’m a little jealous of you.”

“Jealous?” Y/N asked in disbelief.

“Hell yeah!” Maria laughed humorlessly. “I mean, I love Jason. But If I was single and had not one, but two Greek Gods practically salivating over me, I’d never let them go.”

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes feeling much more relaxed than five minutes ago. Maddie had that way about her. She’d didn’t sugar coat things and called Y/N out for letting her anxiety take over. If it weren’t Maddie, Y/N would probably be a hermit with a handkerchief, a chip and a penny as friends. Or at the very least would have an incredibly boring social life.

“You’re right.” Y/N let out a heavy breath. Maddie laughed.

“Duh. You’d think you’d learn that by now.”

“I know. I know.” Y/N groaned and fell back against her pillows to stare at her ceiling. “I should text him back.”

“Yeah, you should. Just don’t worry too much about it. They’ve seen you at your potential worse, and they still like you enough to stick around at the bar.” Maddie said gently. “You got this.”

“Thanks, Maddie.” Y/N said. “Love you. Give the babies kisses from their Auntie.”

“Love you too, Y/N. I’ll give them all the kisses. And don’t forget to tell me all the details later!”

Y/N giggled and hung up. She opened her messenger app, staring blankly at the message. Letting out a sigh, she started typing.

(Y/N)- Hey! A little fuzzy, but I’m all good.

(Y/N)- Let Steve know, Drunk Y/N listened and put water and pills beside my bed.

(Y/N)- She did not, however, remember to change into pjs.

She winced at how absolutely dorky that sounded, but it was too late now. Bucky didn’t take long, less than a minute later messaged back.

(B.B. Gunn)- Glad you’re doin’ okay. You worried us somethin’ happened last night when you came back.

(B.B. Gunn)- I was a little relieved when it was just to give us your number.

(B.B. Gunn)- Lol gotta give her an ‘a’ for effort. At least she tried.

(Y/N)- Yeah, Maddie kind of held a ride home over my head if I didn’t. And drunk me tried to keep my best interest in mind.

It took him longer this time, making Y/N worried she said something wrong. Decided to get up and at least brush her teeth while she waited, Y/N headed to the bathroom. Right as she [ut her toothbrush in her mouth, Bucky text back.

(B.B. Gunn)- Oh. So you didn’t want us to have your number?

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. No, that wasn’t it at all! Holding the toothbrush between her back teeth, Y/N furiously text back.

(Y/N)- Oh god! I realize how bad that sounded now.

(Y/N)- Yes, I did want you both to have my number. Maddie knew if she didn’t blackmail me, I’d chicken out and not give it to you.

(B.B. Gunn)- Good. I’m glad.

(B.B. Gunn)- I had fun with you last night. So did Steve.

(Y/N)- I’ve been told I’m quiet pleasant when I’m not screaming at people.

Y/N giggled at her joke, finishing brushing her teeth before heading to her kitchen. Apparently, drunk her even set up her coffee pot to auto start, coffee filter and all. Thank God, she thought, at least I remembered the filter, unlike last time.

(B.B. Gunn)- 😂

(B.B. Gunn)- Yeah, that was a nice change of pace, fs.

(B.B. Gunn)- So Steve told me I was crazy, but I don’t really care.

(Y/N)- You’re seeing dead people, aren’t you? GREAT!

(Y/N)- Can you tell my cat from when I was twelve to stop knocking my stuff off tables?”

(B.B. Gunn)- LOL What?!

(B.B. Gunn)- No! That’s not even remotely close to what I was gonna say.

(Y/N)- Aw damn. It’s really becoming a problem.

(B.B. Gunn)- I do want to come back to that later.

(B.B. Gunn)- What I was GONNA say

(B.B. Gunn)- I know it’s crazy to even text someone the very next morning after you get their number.

(B.B. Gunn)- But I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with Steve and me tonight?

Y/N’s stomach flipped, a giddy smile growing on her face. She set her mug down with a giggle and danced in place. Taking a moment to compose herself, she took a gulp from her drink and turned back to her phone. Today was Saturday, which meant she had nothing planned other than cleaning her house and doing laundry.

(B.B. Gunn)- I totally understand if you don’t want too.

(Y/N)- No! I mean, I would totally love too!

(Y/N)- Sorry, I had to get caffeine in me.

(B.B. Gunn)- I completely understand the need for caffeine.

(B.B. Gunn)- But great. We were going to go to this little burger joint down the street that’s got some great food.

(B.B. Gunn)- They also have vegetarian options too if you don’t eat meat.

(Y/N)- Ooh, that sounds good! I’m down.

(B.B Gunn)- Sweet! I’ll let Steve know. He had to go into the station for a few hours today but should be done by 4.

(B.B. Gunn)- Ish.

(Y/N)- lol cool. Just let me know and I’ll meet you both there.

(Y/N)- I should get dressed. I just looked in the fridge and I desperately need to go to the store.

(B.B. Gunn)- Steve says he’s on board, but I’m still crazy.

(B.B. Gunn)- You should probably go to the store then. I’m about to head to the gym.

(Y/N)- Have fun with that. I’m gonna go get chips and candy to pig out for you.

(B.B. Gunn)- Lol dork. Don’t fill up on that before dinner.

(Y/N)- Thanks, Dad.

Y/N set her phone down on her desk and went to her closet, picking through what little she had left. She made a note to throw her clothes in the wash before she left to the store. But first, a list for the store. She glanced at her phone once she stepped out of her closet. Bucky hadn’t replied yet. Shrugging, Y/N went into the kitchen to start up her list.

Twenty minutes later, she slipped on her shoes and grabbed her purse. Her phone chimed, both a message for Bucky and Maddie. Deciding she’d call Maddie back once at the store, she opened Bucky’s first.

(B.B. Gunn)- I would make a comment, but I don’t think we’re there for that level of jokes yet. 😉

(B.B. Gunn)- I’ll let you know when Steve’s off and then we can meet up.

(Y/N)- Sweet. I’ve gotta drive now, so I’ll text you later.

(Y/N)- Also, what joke?

(B.B. Gunn)- Don’t worry about it. 😘

(B.B. Gunn)- Drive safe! Ttyl

Y/N shook her head and slipped her phone back in her purse. Climbing into her car, she headed off to the store humming a happy tune. Even though she didn’t think this was a date, she had dinner plans with two incredibly handsome men.

It still did strike her as a little odd how Bucky talked about Steve. It was almost like they lived either together, or next door with how up to date he was on Steve’s location. But then again, she was close to Maddie and knew where she was most days, so it could very well just be like that. Either way, Bucky seemed like an easy-going guy with a sense of humor. From what she learned of Steve, he seemed similar to Bucky, just a tad quieter. Y/N wondered if he had her number too. She hadn’t heard from him yet.

Ignoring the slight disappointment, she pulled into the store parking lot. It wasn’t until she started walking the aisle that it hit her, she was going to have dinner with two nice cops that were both incredibly attractive. And she’d made an idiot of herself twice. Maybe they had a weird sense of humor and wanted to see how far she went? No, she reasoned, they were grown ass men. Why’d they waste their time and do that?

Okay, she thought, I’m freaking out for no reason. I need to just chill, get my groceries and go home to get ready. Shaking her head in the produce aisle, Y/N let out a sigh and grabbed a couple apples. Yep, she’s gonna worry about it later and ignore her stupid anxiety. She was going to have a nice time and enjoy her evening with them. She wasn’t going to be an idiot tonight. She hoped.

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eirenical · 5 years ago

Text

Some self isolation thoughts on this fine cool spring morning...

omg.

someone is grilling something outside or cooking something with a window open and it smells SO GOOD. *_* unfortunately, i think it also smells like hamburgers which i can’t eat without massive indigestion. OTZ which i mean... rip me i guess because now i’m craving hamburgers which i haven’t craved since they started giving me massive indigestion. OH WELL. XD i guess i’ll have to just... sit here and enjoy the smell.

i have been using WAY more of my furniture than i have in the last 10 years. usually i pick one place to sit and just... stick with it. for the past few years that’s been my recliner. now i’m sitting on my couch and my old armchair too, just for a change of pace. XD i think gabriel appreciates when we sit on the couch, especially because we both have more room. ^_^

...which doesn’t stop him from squishing as close as possible, but, you know... cat. ^_^

other thoughts: (behind a cut because this is getting long... and kind of depressing... sorry. -.-;;;)

i’ve had occasion to go out once or twice (just to pick up necessities from the drive up pickup at grocery stores/target, then back to the house, copious hand-washing involved!) since all this started and i can’t get over how... eerily quiet everything is. FAR fewer planes overhead, which for where i live (...in an active flight path for two major airports :P) is RARE. my parents keep comparing it to the time right after 9/11 when no planes were flying. there’s just a lot less noise in general. no lawnmowers no construction way fewer cars. lots more birdsong though, and that’s a plus. ^_^ WAY fewer cars on the roads each time i’ve gone out. i accidentally got on the PARKWAY at RUSH HOUR because i just wasn’t thinking and there was like... no traffic. also there are no cars in parking lots and so many shops are dark. it feels very apocolyptic... apart from the fact that there ARE still cars on the roads, even though there are fewer.

but what’s really striking me is just... how NORMAL everything feels in a way. apart from not going to work, this hasn’t affected much of my life at all? therapy is through video chat now. my intuitive development/meditation class isn’t meeting. neither is my pottery class. it’s going to be a while until we have my niece and nephew over again. but my day-to-day life and socialization were already so heavily online-based that, in that respect, at least, my life hasn’t really changed. and for that, i’m grateful, because it’s let me have at least a bit of a feeling of normalcy.

but the one thing i can’t shake is just... how much easier life feels. i never realized exactly how much going to work on a daily basis just... takes out of me. it’s the whole process of getting out of bed, packing breakfast AND lunch because who has time to eat? or resigning myself to grabbing fast food shit on the way to work/once i’m at work, finding clothes to wear that match/look good/don’t drive me batshit with sensory issues, schlepping my crap out to my car, driving to work (which takes 25 minutes on a good day with NO TRAFFIC AT ALL and can take up to 45 minutes to an hour during rush hour traffic ), walking the roughly 1/3 to a 1/2 mile from my car to my office, depending on how close i manage to park, dealing with the SUPER FUCKING TOXIC work environment i’m in while fighting my adhd and executive dysfunction issues to actually get anything done, fighting my way back home through almost GUARANTEED rush hour traffic... and by the time i’m done with all of that, i have to drag my ass across the backyard for dinner, because it’s the only time i see my family and i miss them when i don’t, even if all i want to do by that point is crawl under the covers and cry... and by then it’s 6/7 pm and i have NOTHING LEFT. forget having energy to talk to people or go anywhere or do anything or be creative or ffs, even get my GRADING done. i just... i have nothing. all i can do when i hit that point is just curl up in my recliner and play mindless games on my phone or computer and hope i can stay awake long enough that i won’t feel guilty for abandoning my cat so soon after FINALLY getting home to keep him company for a few hours.

and FUCK, i’m crying just thinking about how much of my life i waste doing this job that drains me dry with people i actively can’t stand. and for someone who has been embracing her empathic talents more and more, that’s doubly wearing. people at work just take and take and TAKE from me without ever giving anything back, and sometimes just the thought of having to walk into that black swirling morass of SUCK is enough to bring on a migraine or an anxiety attack. i HAVE been getting better at setting boundaries and shielding myself from that crap and that has helped, but... you know what these two weeks have taught me? i still wasn’t doing enough to protect myself. because that overwhelmingly sick feeling i carried around with me constantly has been... pretty damned conspicuous in its absence since i stopped going to work. i used to have constant indigestion (apart from the hamburger issue ;D). like... i popped tums like they were pez and STILL woke up nauseous in the middle of the night half the nights of the week. and... i haven’t had a single bout of indigestion since i stopped going to work. and that’s pretty damned telling for my mental state.

so yeah. what i’m getting from this is that something really has to change in my life. i’ve been feeling more and more that my lifestyle and work life as they are are just... not sustainable for me. i’m going to put myself into an early grave if i keep up what i’ve been keeping up. and i don’t want that. i want to be able to live my life and enjoy doing so. i don’t know what that means. i don’t know what i even CAN do to change things. but i think one thing i’m going to have to talk to my boss about is the possibility of doing some of my office hours remotely. because 26+ hours is way too many hours for me to spend in that place. (because it’s not just 26 hours, it never is.) and i don’t want to live like this anymore. especially not now that i’ve seen how it could be. how if i lived differently, i could have room to breathe.

#eirenical babble #whine whine whine #thoughts about covid 19/corona virus #and what it's revealed to me about... well... a lot of things #:P #anyway #idek #feel free to reply but #p l e a s e don't r e b l o g #long post #in case the cut doesn't work

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amyscascadingtabs · 6 years ago

Text

still i will love your shadow

She’s used to being there for him when he’s disappointed over a case lost to Major Crimes or a negative review on his self-insert Die Hard fanfiction; she’s done that since the early days of their partnership. This is different. This anxiety runs deep, unveils ugly scars of abandonment issues and separation anxiety she can’t make disappear, and it scares her.

When Jake returns home after his time in the safe house with a resurfaced fear, Amy helps him handle it.

Set after 5x12.

(thank you to @dmigod for suggesting post-safe house fic!)

He changes clothes the minute after he’s stepped inside the door and Amy is grateful. Her fiancé may be able to rock a lot of styles, but weird pervert did not quite make her top ten list of them.

Sweatpants and jean jacket are quickly switched for a checkered pair of pajama pants she gifted him for Christmas last year and a NYPD t-shirt, paired with one of his signature blue hoodies, and then he’s safe and home and looks like her Jake again.

Her Jake who almost died today, risking his life for their dads - ahem, their boss and his husband - and then showed up at the precinct in a peculiar outfit and with an action-filled story, one he happily recounted to all present squad members.

It's been a long day.

She busies herself with making coffee while he changes to a more reasonable outfit, enjoying the simple sensation of making it for more than one person and pouring the steaming liquid into not one but two mugs. Milk in one, an absurd amount of sugar in the other. She carries both cups to the couch table, places them on the geode coasters she purchased post the disastrous party at Holt’s over four years ago, and sits down at her chosen favorite end of the couch.

“Jake?”

“Mm-hmm?” He’s walking laps, back and forth through their apartment, eyes darting around as if he’s trying to take in every single detail.

“Coffee.”

“Oh, sure.”

He keeps on walking. She takes a sip from her own mug, hears him turn around at the end of the hallway only to wander back the same way. He turns, then does it again.

“Jake?”

“Huh?”

“Why are you doing that?” She tries not to put any judgement in her voice.

“Restless”, he shrugs, changing direction once more. “Needed to be reminded of what this place is like. I missed it.”

“That's nice”, she smiles, “but can you sit down and have some coffee with me? I missed you, too.”

“Did you change the curtains?”

“What?”

“The curtains. Are they new?”

“The others were Christmas curtains. These are regular winter ones.”

“Huh”, he mumbles, watching them with some wistfulness. “And the bathroom - did you change something in there, too?”

“I reorganized the cabinets so we can get a better overlook - Jake, please just sit down.”

He stands still, fidgeting with his hands. “Is there orange soda at home?”

“Duh”, she says, watching him go to grab one from the fridge and hold up another with a questioning look to her. She shakes her head. There's the familiar click and fizz of the metal can, and then he finally, though it is with reluctance, moves to sit down at the end of the couch.

She starts going through the wedding planning binder nearly on reflex. While he was at the safe house with Kevin, she's spent hours hunched over it at the dinner table, planning the few miniscule things she felt okay deciding without him and asking him about everything else in the letters Holt let them exchange. Still, he’s not seen it all in person, and she's bursting to tell him all about her new idea to name the tables at the reception after characters in Die Hard.

“Obviously our table would be the John McClane one”, she assures him, binder in lap and struggling to keep her excitement at socially acceptable level. He should love this. “And then if there's people we didn't really want to invite, we could put them at the Hans Gruber table.” She looks to him to see his reaction.

“It sounds great”, he tries, drinking the orange soda and mustering a smile she knows to be nowhere near the grin usually apparent on his face upon any mention of Die Hard. “It'll be perfect, babe.”

“I know, I'm actually really proud of it.”

“You should be.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

She knows these answers, she realizes. They’re the same type of short, emotionless responses she’d sometimes get out of him back when he returned from South Carolina, traumatised despite his attempts to laugh about it. Even the way he avoids eye contact, keeps a slight yet notable distance between them on the couch, reminds her of the days when she felt powerless, unfit and handcuffed trying to wrestle his demons for him when neither of them knew how to defeat them. She’s learned her methods now, learned to differ between when he needs her to hug him tight and tell him she’s there versus when he needs to go through all the anxiety-ridden thoughts in detail, but seeing this blank visage on the man whose laugh and grin she’s missed so much brings her back to the feeling of helplessness.

For someone who’s lived with anxiety as her henchman since she started school, spotting it so visibly in him still makes her nervous. She’s used to being there for him when he’s disappointed over a case lost to Major Crimes or a negative review on his self-insert Die Hard fanfiction; she’s done that since the early days of their partnership. This is different. This anxiety runs deep, unveils ugly scars of abandonment issues and separation anxiety she can’t make disappear, and it scares her.

She places a hand on his shoulder, trying to keep her own expression composed. “Is something wrong, Jake?”

He still doesn’t meet her eye. “No, not at all.”

“Then what’s up?”

He opens his mouth, preparing to talk, and then he closes it again. She sits unmoving while he does, legs folded and lips pursed, waiting patiently.

“I left you again”, comes an eventual whisper. This voice is quiet, wavering in contrast to the artificial stability of the earlier one, and it’s a punch to the guts to hear it. “I said I wouldn’t. I promised I wouldn’t leave you again, and then I did anyway.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was, though. I did it willingly. I offered.”

“You didn’t want to feel indebted to Captain Holt. It was the moral thing to do.”

“I almost died.”

“You were doing your job.”

“I guess.” He shakes his head. “But I still left you, and it just - it keeps on happening and I can’t shake the feeling maybe it won’t stop. What if this is how it’ll always be, Ames? What if I’ll keep having to leave you and you can’t do anything about it? What if - what if I’ll always leave you?”

His voice is unnaturally fast-paced. Only thanks to years of substantial training can she register every word, each sentence stinging more than the last.

“You won’t”, she promises. “I know you won’t.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Are you questioning what I can and can’t know?”

“I’m not - but face it, it’s becoming a pattern and I…” He grimaces. “It's not what good fiancés are supposed to do, you know? You deserve better than that.”

She raises an eyebrow. “What are you saying?”

“I'm saying maybe you shouldn't marry me.”

Everything goes black. Not in a literal way, because she sees the pain in his expression and how he turns away from her in perfect clarity, but figuratively she feels like someone pulled down the blinds and now she's fumbling in darkness facing a conflict she's never had with her fiancé before. She twirls the engagement ring on her finger, drinks another sip of the coffee. Her hands must shake a little, because a few drops make their way over the edge of the white cup and drip onto the geode coasters.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to”, comes the continuation. His words are slower now, allowing her instead to hear how quavery they are. “I want to marry you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my damn life. But you deserve better than someone who leaves you and I keep doing it.”

There’s silence, heavier than silence should feel, tangible in the air between them. He looks numb, staring down at the wedding binder with empty eyes, and for the first time in a long time in the history of their relationship, Amy is scared for it.

It’s nowhere a long-lasting fear, luckily, because after many departmentally mandated therapy sessions and private ones on the side, after working next to him for long enough to learn how he handles relationships, she understands what he is doing. He’s giving her an option to leave before the imagined abandonment takes place. He’s saving his own skin in case he has to.

It stings and bites at her to know how even after almost three years, certain doubts refuse to leave. Part of her wants to take it personally. She wants to ask what she’s done wrong, why the belief that she won’t abandon him is not as deeply instilled in him as it is in her, but there’s another, rational part of her which knows this is all about his fear of abandonment and not about her. It’s making her rather tempted to walk up to Roger Peralta and aim a few precise punches to the man’s face.

She can't do that, though, so instead she says the one sentence her mind forms together on instinct.

“That’s literally the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard.”

He blinks. “It is?”

“Yeah. Including the time Hitchcock asked me if Kevin and Holt were brothers.” She shakes her head at the memory. “Not one of word of what you said there is true. It doesn’t work like that.”

“How does it work, then?”

“Like this”. She wraps her arms around him for the first time in weeks and lets him lean his head to her chest, her head resting on his and the fabric of her t-shirt made damp with a few tears. She feels her own take shape, slowly making their way down her cheeks. She makes no effort to blink them away in this moment. “It’s not about what I deserve, Jake. Believe it or not, but I make my own decisions about who I want. And I chose you”, she whispers, noticing her own voice has begun to shake. “I’m still choosing you.”

Neither of them speaks for a fleeting moment, breaths catching, evening out in tandem.

“There are no guarantees in this job.” By now, Amy is talking both to herself and to him. “You might have to leave again. But you might not. I don't know about you, but…” She combs her fingers through his hair, pressing a careful kiss to the top of his forehead. “I’m willing to take that chance.”

The warm air of his exhales makes its way through her shirt, heating up her chest.

“Okay. I am, too”, he mumbles right before she starts worrying he won’t, and even with the weight of his body against hers, breathing is easy again.

“You know”, she says once the anxious tension is not quite as expansive, once her shoulders drop marginally and Jake's breathing becomes less ragged. “I wouldn't want anyone else but you anyway.”

He laughs. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Oh no. Believe me, that is pure egoism. You think I’d want to go back to anyone else after you?” She snorts. “I couldn’t.”

“You’d miss the Die Hard jokes”, he teases.

“I would miss the Die Hard jokes.”

“And the Taylor Swift covers in the car.”

“Where would I be without them?”

“You’d miss always having orange soda in your fridge.”

“Well, I guess technically I could buy my own.”

“Nah, Ames.” He’s grinning again as he sits up straight, pulling her close into his side. “You can pretend all you want, but I know you’d miss the orange soda.”

“Maybe”, she admits, putting weight on the e, and then she’s kissing him. Her thumb traces his jaw, feeling a little bit of stubble, and he tastes sweet of orange soda and familiar and home. They’ve gone weeks without this, the stolen moment in the safe house bathroom seeming oceans away, and she wants to make up for it all at the same time but knows now may not be the perfect moment. Instead she lets her free hand link with his, his hand covering the stones of the engagement ring safely on her finger, making him smile against her moving lips. It's not a heated or a fervent kiss. Desperate is not the word for it, because although they are, this kiss is one of assurance and comfort. It’s a silent promise that they’re okay, reunited and together and forever.

They pull apart with reluctance, a silent promise of later continuation lingering in the air while he tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear.

“I love you”, he tells her, a faint trace of worry left in his voice but a stronger conviction overpowering it. “So much.”

“I love you so much too.” She wrote it in the letters, but it hits her saying it out loud how much she missed telling him in person.

“I’ll try my best not to leave again.”

“I know.”

“You know”, he muses, “if we broke up, I actually think you’d miss my sneakers.”

“Now you're stretching it”, she mutters, but she can't stifle the laughter that ensues.

Charles comes by with dinner for them, making any excuse to see his best friend again after weeks apart. His suggestive wink when he tells them to have a good night is just as uncomfortable as it's always been, but at the same time, it's enough for them both to feel normal again.

The next time Jake spends the night at the precinct, trying to get a confession out of a suspect, she gets a text right before she goes to bed.

Not leaving.

She texts back a single,

I know.

#my writing #b99 fic #b99 #jake x amy #jake x amy fic #peraltiago #peraltiago fic #sorry this is so angsty wow #i just... i wanted to write this

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selenecrawford · 6 years ago

Text

The Odd Pair 8

Warning: Smut (sexual situations) rough sex

The next morning, Selene went to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Shingen was already working on his office. Yesterday was incredible, her skin, her core were still vibrating with his touch. Hugging herself, she had to cover her mouth to prevent a silly giggle escaping. Her breasts felt sensitive , eager to be touched again. After the first time, they ate and did it at least four more times before falling asleep in each others arms. The mere thought of what they did made her cheeks burn again. Taking a deep breath Selene took her cup of coffee taking a walk to the balcony. The newspaper was already there waiting to be read. Taking it she re enter the house and delivered to Shingen on his office. He was already at a conference call, hearing the reports. By the looks of it things weren't working as planned.

“Mr. Takeda, we need you next week to be on New York. If you don't come the stocks will plummet to the floor. At least come for a month and the investors will quiet down, then you can go back...”

“ I have duty to fulfill here Nolan, I can't...” he noticed Selene at the door, signaling her to come, Selene entered as silently as possible.

“Well, we are already providing enough information to the media. If you can appear at least on one or two galas...” Nolan still was insisting.

“Yukimura can attend on my place, that's why he has taken my place of CEO during this time I'm out.”

“Please reconsider the situation Mr. Takeda. The company might fall if you are not here. Good day.” the line went dead.

Shingen took a deep breath trying to calm the raging anger it was building inside of him. He was so immerse on is thoughts he forgot Selene was there until she hugged him from behind.

“What's wrong?” her voice was soft almost a whisper.

“Some of the Manager's at the company think my absence is affecting the company. They want me back for a month, at least to shut the tabloids mouth. But if I go you will have to go, the press is not kind with people, I made myself clear that Yuki was in charge for this whole year.” Shingen took her hand bringing her to the front in order for her sit on his lap.

Selene kept silent for a couple of minutes. The odds that they will dig on her past were big. The conditions of the testament were also too bizarre which will make things more complicated.

“How about we act like an dating couple. I mean, you met me on a trip we are starting to going out and now we are just dating. As soon as they know I'm just a normal person they will go for another couple. We just be on a couple, outings right?”

“Are you sure you want to be expose to the press?” Shingen hugged by the waist while caressing her thigh with the other hand. Looking directly at her eyes, Shingen looked for a hint of hesitation found nothing. Selene was determined, she understood his situation, a pang of pride was felt on his heart. Yesterday, he loved her as much as they could bear. Yet, he still wanted to get buried inside of her. He hugged her laying his head on her chest. Her heart was beating a bit faster than normal. She dismissed it the first time he asked her about it. He knew she was feeling something for him more than lust. Still, they both decided play it safe. Silence was their cover to protect themselves.

“Ok, I will make these apparitions but only for one week. And you will follow my orders ok?”

“Aye, Aye sir.” her smile was so innocent and sweet, that made him reach out to kiss her.

God he felt he can't get enough for her, she feels so good.

Selene took the decision to help him, based on her own code. Things might had not started on good terms, but they had progressed since the beginning. She felt she owned him for he agreeing to marry her. Plus, he had been there with her in good and worse times. Remembering the days she spent at the hospital, made her skin crawl with shivers. Shingen saved her, the least she could do was to endure the click of cameras one week. Shingen 's kiss was soft, tender, taking his time to explore her mouth while his tongue teased hers. A content sigh escaped her ,Shingen wanted her now. Seeking air she interrupted the kiss.

“We need to get moving Tiger. I will see if I can start packing, you go call those grumpy executives.” with a final short kiss Selene went to their room.

By the time Shingen finished coordinating the week, Selene already had packed, called Krugger letting him know about their trip. She also called Kaede to let her know they will be traveling together. Kaede was happy for them seeing them happy together and loving each other. Yukimura sent the jet to pick them up. The trip to New York will take three hours giving them time to rest. Shingen took time to revise the reports Yuki sent by fax, something was not right with some of the reports. Yuki was investigating the situation when news reports started to show Shingen's absent from the social life was taking more stage than other news in a bad way. Someone was making a fuss to take the attention from the reports the question was why?

Selene managed to call Jonathan before leaving, at the airport. Letting him know she will be appearing at some events with Shingen, in case people were to dig up about her. Jonathan promised to deflect the attention from her job. She decided to use the brown contact lenses in order to hide at least part of her. Making difficult, for the press to dig about her. She was nervous but also wanted to help him. Her anxiety, started to showed once again. Crowds, too loud sounds were something she had to deal with at work, it used to drive her insane. Until she managed, to adapt, to the situation. Since living with Shingen her anxiety went down little by little, to a point that she barely thought about it.

(Come on Selene, you can't be this scared. Be a little braver.) hugging herself she rubs her arms.

Shingen went to sit next to her. “What's wrong?” taking her hand he squeezed it gently.

“I'm just a bit nervous. Never mind me, I always get like this when I go to the city. So how are things going for you?” Selene gave him an opportunity to distract her.

“Things are quite suspicious, someone made a lot of complains to the tabloids, the newspapers are more sensationalist than ever. A good scandal sells issues. Once they see things are good with me they will back down.” Shingen took a look, at Selene left hand. The wedding ring he bought her was not there.

“Where is the ring?”

“I put it on a box, I was afraid to loose it. Is that ok with you?” Selene's change was visible. Her walls were being raised. Shingen was not happy with this.

“We still can turn around...”

“I'm not shutting you out, not this time Shingen. But I can't be myself with the people outside, is complicated to explain, but I will let you know once this over.” Selene leaned against Shingen.

He embrace Selene on his arms, kissing her forehead. Another piece of a puzzle. He felt her relaxed on his arms, a sigh escaped him. He learned something new, the private investigator he hired couldn't find much regarding Selene's past life at college. Since living together, she opened more to him. Her smile, laugh, her hidden dances at the kitchen. Each day that passed by make him wish to make their situation more permanent. Resting his cheek on the top of her head, Shingen ask Selene.

“Promise me that if something happens or someone gets too cocky with you, you'll let me know ok? I don't want anything bad happen to you.” he separate from Selene so she could see his face.

Selene was surprised at his petition, Shingen was serious his eyes intense. A strange emotion stirred inside of her, she could only nod replying“I promise.” Closing her eyes she kiss him softly on the lips.

“You are not playing fair you know?” Shingen moan before taking her mouth on a deep kiss.

Smiling against his lips Selene said “Look who is talking.”

Upon arriving to the airport Shingen went directly to the company. He asked Selene if she could go and buy some dresses for the events they will be attending. He gave her a credit card telling her not to care for the price. Selene went first to the apartment to leave the luggage, get a change of clothes and get her make up done. Her scar was distinctive in order to hide it she put some make up to erase it completely. Choosing a pencil skirt with a blue long sleeve blouse she ventured on the shops to get the necessary wardrobe.

Faking was one of the things Selene hated the most. Using an air of refinement, when all she wanted was a nice slice of pizza and a cup of coffee. Her shopping spree went quick and efficient. She managed to get some good cocktail dresses that she could use for many events as well as casual outings. Her shoes were comfortable, but elegant. For two of the two galas Shingen was invited, Selene found a vintage mode in deep purple. The dress was long but manageable, with shoulders of covered on tulle. The second dress was neck halter dress, the skirt reached almost reached her ankles. Since it was backless she got a nice pashmina in black, white and rest floral prints to cover her back. Her accessories were minimal since she managed to achieve the look she will like. Once the shopping was done she went for the pizza and the coffee. Walking the streets of New York was a nice change of pace. The clothes were delivered to Shingen's apartment, giving her liberty to visit at least part of the Museum of Natural History. Once she finished she went back to the apartment to wait for Shingen. A buzz on her phone let her know he was going to be late for dinner. Another buzz was her email detailing the agenda they will get starting the next morning. ON many of the meetings it was only Shingen. Selene frown thinking it might be a mistake until Shingen arrived a couple pf hours later.

“Hey how was work?” Selene gave him a quick peck on the lips.

Shingen on the other hand hugged her tightly and gave a deep kiss.

“That bad uh?” She went the sofa and started giving a massage.

“You are a blessing in disguise Princess.” a deep sigh of relief was heard.

The board of directors wanted to know what he had been doing lately, he had managed to fool almost everyone except Nolan. The man is an old fox, he knows something is up. Shingen thought not telling too much information to Selene. She already was dealing with a lot on her plate. The moment they arrived she was back to the woman he met at the funeral, a distant porcelain doll. He tried not to reach her in public. It pained him see her like that.

“Come here, tell me how was your day?” he put her on his lap caressing her nape. She immediately, relaxed against him resting her head on his shoulder.

“It was good, managed to get what I need, then went to the museum.” She shrugs trying not to remember how the employees of the store were stiff with her until she showed Shingen's card. Then it was all smiles.

“That bad uh?” Shingen gave her a kiss.

“Can we stay at home today please?” Selene made a sad puppy face, pleading her case.

Shingen had to laugh hugging her tightly. “Ok we stay, what about taking a shower together then some lazy time on bed.”

Selene big smile was all he needed to get her on his arms and going for the shower together.

The apartment had a state of the art bathroom a shower, with a big bathtub on the side. Taking their clothes off Selene still managed to feel flustered when seen Shingen's body naked. Her face was almost completely red when she decided to take sponge fill it with soap then start rubbing making a lather to bathe Shingen. He had lustful look watching Selene's body next to him. She had a sponge full of lather. Without saying a word she started watching his body carefully. Some of the soap fell on her body which Shingen used to caress her. Once he was completely covered in soap, he took the sponge and worked on Selene's body. He made her get against him, making him look at his eyes. When the moment arrived to wash off the soap, Shingen got under the shower rain with Selene in front of him. His hands worked on her body until they touch her breasts. Her nipples were hard and standing in attention. Massaging her breasts from time to time he pinched her nipples softly making her arch and moan in response. Selene reached his shaft which by now was up. Caressing it softly she reached the tip and started to caress it with her thumb in circles. A wave of desire hit Shingen having to hold Selene when he almost came by her touch. Without any ceremony he bend Selene while in one swift movement he enter her from behind.

Feeling him inside of her made Selene moan out loud, searching something to hold herself on. In the end she put her hands against the wall while Shingen banged her from behind rapidly.

“Please, faster, oh,....Shingen,” Selene was gripping him hard feeling her orgasm getting near.

Shingen made a hard push then went outside to cum. Getting on his knees he was still cumming when he grab Selene turning her to face him. He started to lick her clit while fingering her. Selene closed her eyes holding herself up when her knees started to get weak.

“Shingen, Oh God, I,...” increasing the speed, Shingen gave a last suck on her clit making Selene cum on his mouth. Her knees gave away making her go down. Shingen caught her in his arms. Both were panting, exhausted. Selene felt her eyes sting a bit. Closing her eyes to prevent the tears from spilling she hid her face on his shoulder.

“Are you ok?”

“Takeda stop making stupid questions.” both started to laugh.

When they could get up from the floor, they finished the shower, Shingen ordered some Chinese food while Selene was in bed. Each time they had sex Selene's heart felt more excited than before. Her body was now craving his warmth with each time they bonded. Selene couldn't help but wonder if something was changing inside of her, if she finally was falling in love with him. Her heart skips a beat every time she sees him smiling at her. She silently,pray he will be feeling the same for her.

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Notes: Careful with the chapter, decided to explore a bit of more sexy time. I’ve been a bit busier at work so if I’m a bit slow on the updates sorry. I hope you like it,

@elievalentine @colivara @notsafefortum-blr @datemasamunemaiwaifu @unstoppablelinda @epicdragonlady @yeshasays @masa-little-kitten @mikamiw @kimi00twin @kouei116 @blue-bean-exe @mitsuhidethesnek @la-piperina @pirateprincessyuki @jennacat84 @valfraeyja @little-blue-octopus @sengokuotaku82 @serenity-writes @xathia-89 @shouta-bakugou @cailannuesugi @kitsune-mana @atatera-blog

#ikesen #ikesen shingen #fanfic

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thequeenofcronuts · 6 years ago

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Justify My Love - Chapter 3 - Visions

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Book: The Royal Romance Word Count: 2,190 Pairing: Maxwell x MC (Kristina Hampshire) Chapter Characters: Maxwell x Drake ( Friendship )

Warnings - Language

A/N In this TRR au Series: Kristina (MC) decides she cannot stay in Cordonia after the events of the Coronation Ball. Not so much caring about her own reputation, but caring for the life of the man she has been falling for, which is not the prince. She returns to New York and is faced with her heartbreak and regret while Maxwell is left in Cordonia struggling to understand the truth behind his feelings. Will they let each other go?

**All characters and named places are owned by Pixelberry Studios. Rights to the songs, and their titles, used for inspiration in this series belong to:

Justify My Love (Madonna) - Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, Universal Music Publishing Group, Reach Music Publishing, BMG Rights Management

Visions (Maroon 5) - Universal Music Publishing Group

——————————

Maxwell’s POV

“So Hana is already on a flight to LA? And Bastien has already gotten our travel arranged? And we have an actual address for Tariq to go to? And…all this…is set, right?” The truck is silent for a moment as Drake takes a deep breath while his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. “Yes, yes, and yes Maxwell. For the hundredth time yes. So stop asking.” “Well, Savannah is the one who literally pushed me into your truck. I have nothing to occupy myself with until we can buy what we need since I wasn't allowed to pack or even have the chance to say I was going with you.” Maxwell huffs all in one breath. “And let the record show that I didn't want to go on this ridiculous trip. On top of that now you’ve forced me into an anxiety riddled wreck.”

“Maxwell, we all know you better than you know yourself right now. So just go with it.” “Why Drake, this is pointless. So, if we find Tariq, and somehow talk him into making a statement to clear Kristina’s name what is th-“ “Dammit Maxwell,” Drake cuts him off, “quit saying the same shit you’ve been saying over and over since she lef….went back to New York. Why can't anyone convince you that the worst case scenario is we clear Hampshire’s name so the tabloids and garbage nobles can't continue to gossip about her.” They’ll find someone else in less than five minutes to start on. “This ‘all or nothing’ idea you’re hung up on is not the only answer. We all get it, you want her name cleared so she’ll come back to you.” Maxwell's mouth is agape as he stares daggers into Drake. “Why…what…no it's not like that.” “For fuck sakes Maxwell, why can everyone see this but you. No, don't answer that, I don't have the patience this second. I’ll get you to grasp this when we get settled on the plane, but right now, mercifully, we’re here at the airport so get out of my damn truck.”

After easily checking in for their flight, they head to the gate and wait. Drake lets out a sigh and says out loud to no one in particular, “Thank gods Bastien has the magic of making travel happen fast.” I have to keep my emotions in check, or Maxwell will shut down again. Sinking back into his chair, he watches from about five yards away the younger Beaumont sit, then stand, then pace, then sit, then stand, then pace until they are called to board the plane. While taking their oh so close to each other seats, Drake admits to himself that any hopes of escaping this conversation are now squashed, making him huff out suppressed air.

As the plane takes off Drake turns to Maxwell and states flatly, “Lets chat.” “Drake, you don't chat, ever.” “That is a true and fair statement. So instead what I am going to do is ask you questions and you give me answers. And be warned, I WILL keep you focused and on track. I’m not wasting time on this when I could be sleeping.” Maxwell hears the crescendo of frustration, impatience, and a little anger peppered in, as his unlikely traveling companion speaks. Drake’s tone makes Maxwell involuntarily lean away wide eyed until the plane’s window stops allowing him to go back any further. “Um Drake, you look pretty upset and kinda scary right now.”

“Just follow the rules and it will be fine. I ask questions, you answer honestly, and we stay on track. Also remember you are the worst lier. You got all that?” “Do I have a choice? Because I’m not feeling like there a choice since I’m in the window seat, and you're blocking aisle. Plus, even though the seats are tight I’m pretty sure you could still find a creative way to punch me.” “Yep, you’ve got no choice. So now we're on the same page. Ok first question. How much time did you and Hampshire spend together during the Social Season?” Maxwell kinda wiggles in his seat and sheepishly answers, “Um, a lot? Not specific, I know, so please don't hit me!” “Not going to, that's a fair answer. I wasn't expecting a down to the second count.” “Whew, because that would really be impossible to figure since you have to subtract hours of sleep, and activities with the other su….” “Maxwell FOCUS.” “Uh, yeah. Sorry.”

Drake looks past Maxwell for a few seconds out the window and then turns back. “I just need a simple yes or no for this one, so try for me. Was a good portion of that time with Hampshire spent shopping for cloths, dancing and whatever else it is that makes you, uh…Maxwell?” Maxwell squints as he thinks, “Yes, but don't forget the spectacular screwup I am too.” Drake shuts his eyes and massages his temples. “Ok, not a simple yes or no answer like I asked for, and lets forget your ‘screw up’ thought for now and stick to one ‘Maxwell’ issue at a time. So even though the time was supposed be done in the name of House Beaumont’s suitor, you and Kristina enjoyed a lot of time that technically wasn't necessary, and maybe without one-hundred percent consideration of Bertrand’s scheming to push her to ‘win’ the prince?” More like a blasted reality TV competition. “Yeah, I guess. We had so much fun though! This one time when we were at…” Drake glares. “Uhhh, focusing. Absolutely focused.” Maxwell sits on his hands.

“What was the best part of the Social Season for you?” Drake sees the look in Maxwell's eyes change from apprehension to tenderness, while he answers softly. “Well, honestly, waking my little blossom up in the mornings. She is completely adorable when all sleepy and so funny with a foggy head. It was always a fun time to pick on her with her slowed down witty comebacks. And just to start the day with her. Mornings were the best, usually just the two of us before breakfast each day.” Maxwell’s mouth begins to form a huge grin as he gazes off into space. Drake just shakes his head trying to hide the smirk on his face. “What Drake? I answered your question with an honest answer.” “Oh, I know you did. But, do you know you just really smiled for the first time since the night of the Coronation?” Maxwell was at a loss for words for a minute. “No, I’ve smiled since then.” “Not ones like this Maxwell.” Maxwell just looks down at his hands and doesn't say anything.

“That's what I thought.” Drake shifts in his seat. “Damn these commercial planes are uncomfortable. Ok, next question.” “Really, more Drake?” “Yes. If you can't hold a conversation without going around in the same circles, and you keep running away from any of us when we breach the subject of Hampshire, I’m going to keep this simple and direct.” Trust me, without whiskey this is killing me. Hell, even with whisky this would still be a form of torture. “I don't see why we are bothering at all with this, Drake. She, she left her best friend…er…friends.” Drake pinches the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and ring finger finally snapping. “We are continuing because we don't know any concrete reasons for her decisions. Only you seem to think you know for certain, and you're so, ugh, fucking frustrating right now. I mean to me you always are, but this is so madding. Furthermore, we are continuing because Hampshire is one of all of our best friends, and…awe hell…she broke through and turned you all into really good friends of mine too. Now back to the part where I ask questions.” Maxwell is wearing small crooked grin. “Why are you smiling at me?” “Because Drake, you just said I’m one of your good friends.” “Ugh, don't let it go to your head. Getting back on track now. Recently when you’ve been doing all this shit for Bertrand, and the estate, what are you trying to ignore? And don't deflect the question or say you're not ignoring something.” Maxwell shrugs. “It's because Bertrand expects my help. That's all.” Drake rolls his eyes. “Remember the part where I said you are a shitty lier?” He arches an eyebrow at him, while Maxwell turns to look out the window.

“Ok, lets try another route here. When you wake up what is the first thing you think of everyday?” Maxwell slowly turns from the window and quietly answers, “Kristina.” “And who does your mind wander to throughout the day?” Maxwell avoids Drake’s stare and sighs. “Kristina.” “Who have you missed most while you’ve you put yourself into this forced exile?” “Kristina.” “Ok, last one. Who do you wish you were holding at the end of each day, and even holding right now?” “Kris…” Drake quickly sits back with a smug look. “So, Maxwell, we finally agree that you love her.” Maxwell raises his voice a bit. “So what if I do. It changes nothing. She left me…alone…with no contact.”

Maxwell turns his head and again stares out the window for a few minutes, while Drake just leans his seat back waiting for him to speak. Finally in a soft and almost somewhat defeated voice, “But Drake, even if she did like me too, in that way, she had a prince who was choosing her. There is no way she would see me…see me more than a best friend. I’m nothing like Liam.” His face changes to a pained expression. “…but Drake, every time I close my eyes I see visions of her, and during the day sometimes I see mirages of her as if my mind is playing tricks on me.” “Maxwell, look at me.” Maxwell won't turn from the window. “Seriously…” Drake shakes his head, “look at me. Good gods I never knew this happy go lucky thing you have, and seeing the good in everything was just fueled by such stubbornness.” Drake grasps Maxwell's shoulder lightly. “There were signs that you and Liam missed, and Bertrand ignored, seen by everyone else. For one, how the expressions of her eyes began to change almost daily when she looked at you and stole glances. How her body language changed as she danced with you. How she had a special laugh just for you. It didn't take long for Hana to pick up on it, and then she drug me along until I saw it too. She turned it into a mission to get you both to admit your feelings for each other. And so here we are, clearing names and playing Cupid.” Drake shakes his head, “Things I do for you people.”

Maxwell takes a long time to process it all. This conversation, the Social Season, and the little signs he guesses he missed along the way. Drake is almost asleep when Maxwell bolts up straight in his seat, tapping his now bouncing legs while his countenance beams, and he asks with a voice full of excitement, “So, you think it might actually be possible? I mean her… me…I mean it seems crazy but…there's hope, right?” “We’ll find out. But there's been time between then and now for things to have happened, but, aw hell, I’m a guy. I don't know.” Maxwell can't sit still at all now. “Oh for fucks sakes.” Drake grimaces. What have I done? “Now you’re going to be more normal,” Drake uses air quotes around the word normal, “Maxwell on this trip from this point on, aren't you.” Drake drops his head into his hand. “You know it, buddy!” Maxwell is on the edge of his seat still bouncing, which is coincidentally bounces Drake’s seat. I can't believe I’ve made it this far into this conversation without alcohol. Where is the stewardess?

“Sooooo, you think Hana will know? I mean she must. Girls talk about this stuff. When does she land in LA?” Drake, with his head still in his hand, looks at Maxwell through the space between his fingers. “Even if Hana knows anything from before the coronation night, I’m sure there's some kind of girl code or Hana knows some kind of protocol for these types of things. Doubt you'll get anything out of her.” “Okay, so we find Tariq, get him to give the statement, then what Drake?” Drake sits up seeing Maxwell's unabashed hopeful look, “Then we try and find Hampshire.” “Really? YES!!!! Where have you and Hana decided to look first? Ohhhh, does Hana know where Kristina is?” “Unfortunately, no. She hasn't heard from Hampshire at all. Just like the rest of us. But, we are going to start in New York.” “Ummm, New York City is huge!” Maxwell’s eyes grow large as he looks at Drake. “We’ll start where all this started.” Drake says matter of factly. “At a little dive bar we both know.”

#the royal romance #choices the royal romance #maxwell beaumont #maxwell x mc

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kassilovesr5 · 7 years ago

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You’re My Music-(R5) Chapter 42-SUFFER

Note about you’re my music and meee: XX

Life update? What was there to tell except that it was a confusing time. Things had progressed to Riker and I being in numerous social situations together, and us having nothing but small talk. I, surprisingly, was happy with that. I just wanted things to be chill. I hated conflict, so pushing things to the side just felt like the easiest route. If I actually faced all of the questions that reared their heads I would never sleep from the consuming anxiety. What if he still has feelings for me? What if he doesn’t have feelings and is having all the sex he wants now? What I still had feelings for him? The fact of the matter was it was easy to move on when I didn’t face the matters at hand. It felt like we were on the track to being friends. All we needed was some time to let our feelings dissolve and that was what was happening if I had anything to do with it. It was a fresh day. I had felt better than I did in a long time. Rocky and I made a commitment to be healthier, so we got up at seven in the morning we went for a run to a local farmers market where they sold vegan smoothies. I was panting and running as fast as I could to keep up with his long strides. “WHY-Y…CAN YOU...RUN FASTER THAN ME.” I huffed as I tried to keep up. His face cracked a cheeky grin but he gave no response and sped up a pace more. “You have to be kidding me I’m the one who’s an athlete.” “You’re an athlete?” He grinned. “I swear if you try to be one of those douchebags who says dancing isn’t a sport I’ll kick your butt.” I sped up a pace more and finally sped ahead an inch only to be caught up with a second later. “I run a lot that’s all. It helps me think.” “You got a lot to think about?” “Lately yea, a little too much.” He was silent for a second. I saw sweat droplets fall from his face and his eyes look dead on at the paved trail ahead of us. As close as we were he never really opened up to me about what was going on in that thick skull of his. That wasn’t new. That boy never conveyed any of his thoughts to me and it was something that worried me from time to time. I felt like he was saying so much in no words at all. “You’ve got a lot to think about too.” “I have all of my thinking sorted I’ll have you know.” “Oh really? That’s why you’ve been acting so weird around Riker.” “I have not been! We’re finally getting back to normal!” “And what is normal for you guys?” I had to pause for a second before knowing how to answer that myself. My relationship with Riker had never really been any sense of the word normal. That didn’t matter though. I was set on rebuilding our friendship up. “We are two mature adults that have passed a phase in our lives. I don’t want things to have to change drastically because of it.” “Wow okay. Well if you think you’ve moved on then power to you! I’m proud. The dinner party won’t be weird tonight at all!” He raised an eyebrow. I couldn’t tell if that was Rocky reassuring me or testing me. “Nope, it won’t,” I said triumphantly. The farmers market was up about a block ahead of us and we were coming in hot. “Make you a deal winner buys?” “You’re on.” ** I stood staring at a rack of clothes. In the interest of trying to keep my life casual, I picked a purple, velvet, form-fitting dress with a small slit in the back. I slipped it on and checked in the mirror to make sure it looked all right. I fluffed the curls I spent an hour working on and added a touch of setting spray to my face just to keep it fresh. “HOLY CRAP!” I spun around the see the voice behind the expletive. “Is it awful?” I winced. There was no going back on the decision I made. “It’s gorgeous.” Rydel grabbed a chunk of the freshly died deep brown hair on my head. “I needed a change.” “I love the purple tint to it too.” We stood there for a second while Rydel examined my hair. I could tell she had thoughts that expanded past the color of my hair. She had that look in her eye. “What? What is it?” I edged her on aggressively. “I didn’t say anything.” “Yea, well you have that look in your eye. You’re thinking something just say it.” “Well, you look gorgeous. This dress is absolutely killer and your hair is amazing. You just don’t usually put much stake in these types of things. Is there a reason for all of it?” “No, I just wanted to look nice you know.” I knew that wasn’t the whole truth. There was no doubt she did too, I just couldn’t explain myself. “Okay, you won’t get more questions from me.” She smirked. “Now let’s go. I don’t want to be late to this fancy thing. Rich people are so cool, but they scare me.” After I finished laughing we gathered ourselves and walked out the door. The spurts of laughter calmed my nerves for less than a second and then I realized I was a literal puddle. I was oozing out with anxiety. My palms were glazed with sweat. ** The dinner party was nicely sized. It was mostly a networking gig. Renowned producers, a few choreographers, directors, along with some talent were in the mix. R5 was invited and the only reason I was going because this dinner was a hot ticket. Invitations had been sent out months ago, and the band was lucky to get a ticket. The amount of exposure I could receive from this dinner was priceless. That’s why I jumped at the opportunity to be Riker’s plus one. Of course, I jumped at the opportunity when we were still together. We hadn’t talked much in the passing days and now I was to be seated next to him all night. To make matters worse the point of the event was to get talent and producers alike to mingle. The band was split up all at different tables. Even though I sat at that table with two middle-aged producers, a television personality, and a Hollywood celebrity choreographer whose clothes were worth more than my life savings; I would have rather talked to them, than Riker. I was going to make a commitment. I wasn’t going to be weird. The dinner was going to be casual. I had no problem with being casual with Riker. I just had to get through dinner until it was the social hour where I could stand and mingle. “I’m a big fan of this bread.” “I can tell you’ve eaten half of the bowl.” The dry words barely fell out of his lips and he didn’t give me a glance when he spoke. “So, Riker how is the band?” A man around 50 dressed in a completely black suit asked picking up the glass of wine in front of him. My best guess was that this man was R5’s connection to the gig. Rocky told me previously that some hot-shot producer saw them perform at a music festival and was impressed. The guy introduced himself, said the band showed potential and just needed a few more connections to make it to the top. A few weeks later the band received the golden ticket. “Great. We got some really good prospective projects coming that I’m excited about.” The man hummed in approval. “If you ladies and gentlemen weren’t aware, this is Riker Lynch. He plays bass in the talented band: R5” “Nice to meet you, Riker, I’m Lauren Jennevive.” A gorgeous black woman with her hair pinned up, wearing the classiest black dress and a maroon lip reached her hand out to shake Rikers. She was so smooth and elegant. “And I see you got yourself a lady friend here. Don’t you two make a lovely couple,” said the man who got R5 the connection. He was admiring the golden name card that said “Guest of Riker Lynch: Rian Erikson. The name card was very dignified. “Oh, we’re not actually together.” He spoke. “Oh, come on, don’t be shy. You can’t be telling me there’s nothing going on between the two of you. I can feel the tension between you. Plus, you brought her to an event like this you must like her an awful lot,” a girl in her mid-20s giggled. I’d seen her on tv before; she was the host of a hit entertainment industry gossip show. “Well I mean we’ve had stuff in the past, but we’re just better as friends,” I spoke. It was concerning how chipper I sounded. Riker cleared his throat. “Yea something like that.” His face shifted to be very uncomfortable, but he looked at me and flashed a fake smile. The dinner might’ve been the most uncomfortable hour I’d ever experienced. More uncomfortable then losing a bet and jumping in the lake naked in front of my friends when I was 13. “Ladies and gentlemen if you’d like to join us in the grand ballroom for the social hour” Another elegant woman announced very smoothly. Riker mumbled thank God under his breath. The hour revealed we hadn’t made as much progress in our friendship as I hoped. “Nice meeting you folks, if you will excuse me.” Riker abruptly stood up. I got up and followed after him. “Riker, please wait,” I spoke. He turned around with such disdain. I would’ve expected his glare to be so harsh but instead, he looked so disappointed. “Can we talk.” “I need a drink.” He turned back around and walked up to one of the men wearing a tux holding a silver platter with glasses full of champagne. He intensely grabbed one of the glasses and it tipped it back. He let out an exasperated sigh when he turned around and I was standing there. “This champagne isn’t cutting it. I need vodka.” “Can we please talk.” “We just talked for an hour.” He rolled his eyes. “Things don’t have to be like this.” I pleaded. “Be like what? Awkward? You’re seriously kidding yourself if you think we can just be chummy and pal around. “I just think it would be for the best if we could be friends at least. We can’t avoid each other.” “We were together, and you left me, or did you already forget?” “You act like I just walked away from us. You know damn well why I ended us. I was just trying to be civil, so we wouldn’t have to be awkward forever. We live in the same house.” “I don’t want to be friends with you. The way you’ve been talking to everyone it’s like we had a fling and it was some sort of mistake. I get that you’re over me, you’ve made that pretty fricken clear. I am still in love with you, so if you don’t want to be with me, then don’t make me suffer” “You know our relationship meant something to me. I never meant to make you suffer, I left you because you hurt me.” “You get so emotionally detached that the first sign of conflict makes you run away. You try to ignore your emotions and it pushes everyone away. I get that I hurt you that was on me, but you didn’t want to work it out, you didn’t even want to hear me out. You wanted to run away because that was easier. You want me to play along and pretend that I’m over you too and that we can be friends, and everything will be okay. Well, I am not going to do that, because unlike you I don’t ignore my feelings. Let me tell you I wish I wasn’t still in love with you. Apparently, I might be a father, and all I can think about is you because my heart hurts so damn much. So please let me get over you, and just leave me alone.”